


Now Richie is IT

by Frankensteins_Monster



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Complicated Relationships, Dark, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drug Use, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Bantering, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie's End of Life Crisis, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gore, Grief/Mourning, Horror, Humour, Humour as a coping mechanism, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Love, M/M, Mike Hanlon is a Good Friend, Oral Sex, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Protectiveness, Psychological Horror, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is IT, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Shapeshifting, Slow Romance, Smut, Sort Of, Supernatural Elements, The Losers Club Love Each Other (IT), The Losers Club Stay in Derry (IT), Trauma, Violence, mindfuckery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27668959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frankensteins_Monster/pseuds/Frankensteins_Monster
Summary: Richie Tozier is IT, or rather, Richie Tozier becomes IT. He becomes the next IT. Now Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier is no stranger to a struggle, but being IT, boy that is nothing like he’s ever experienced before. He's saved Eddie, which is great. But when his world starts crumbling around him he starts to wonder who he can really depend on, who he really is, and how (or if) he can keep himself sane.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Audra Phillips, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	1. Day One, Ground Zero

**Author's Note:**

> This story is mostly following on from the canon of the book and not the movies.
> 
> (Spoiler Warning! - For those who intend to read the book spoiler-free, definitely don’t read the following notes. In fact just go read the book and come back and read this story afterwards.)
> 
> For moviegoers and non-book-readers, some important notes regarding the events of the book:
> 
> In the book Richie often sees IT appear to him specifically in the form of a werewolf, and because of this IT is vulnerable to the silver bullets that The Losers later craft out of silver dollars.
> 
> Mike did not participate in the final battle against IT because he was hospitalized after Henry Bowers paid him a visit and nearly killed him.
> 
> In the book the ritual of Chüd very specifically requires biting into IT’s tongue and telling jokes on a sort of psychic or interdimensional plane of existence. Both Bill and Richie at some point engage in this ritual with IT in attempts to defeat it. Richie does so towards the end of the final battle, and IT bites into his tongue just as he does IT’s (although taking place in this separate plane of existence). In the end, they successfully kill IT using this ritual.
> 
> And Eddie has his arm ripped off during the battle, after attacking IT with his inhaler, and dies from a loss of blood.
> 
> Now you’re all caught up. Enjoy.

**Part One: A New Life and Death for Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier**

**Chapter 1 – Day One, Ground Zero**

**_"Will you walk into my parlour?" said the spider to the fly;  
"'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy.  
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,  
And I have many pretty things to show when you are there."  
"O no, no," said the little fly, "To ask me is in vain,  
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."_ **

**_From The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt_ **

“I’m not leaving him!” Richie stumbled over his own words like he would if he was drunk. The blow to the head had really taken its toll, but they were crazy if they all believed that he would leave his Eds to die down in the dark.

“This whole place is coming down, we’ve gotta go!” Bill urged. “He’s dead, there’s no use-“

Richie just shook his head, sending his damp hair swinging from side to side.

“Richie!” Bev called. “Come on! Please!”

They'd all been pleading with him for a long while. Trying to get him to budge from Eddie's side, convince him to move. But Richie wasn't having any of it.

Richie turned around and looked at them. “Then go!” He screamed. “Because I’m not going with you!”

“But you could die down here!” Ben said. Ben had been fairly quiet up ‘til now.

“Just go.” Richie said in a soft voice, turning back towards Eddie.

“We can’t lose anyone else!” Bev screamed, as Ben started to steer her towards the exit. “I couldn’t bear it!”

“He’ll snap out of it.” He thought he herd Ben whisper. He could feel Bill’s eyes looking back at him.

But then finally all went quiet, and empty, save for the desperate sobbing that Richie only just realised was him.

Slowly Richie’s crying faded, until it was completely silenced. Now he was just shaking.

“Mine was the werewolf.” Richie mumbled, with a sort of tired laugh. The sort of laugh you make when you’re dead inside. “Mine was the werewolf, Eds.”

“Listen to me!” Richie cried out suddenly. It echoed throughout the empty darkness surrounding them like the crack of a whip.

Eddie opened his eyes.

“That’s better.” Richie said, as Eddie sat up and blinked.

“I should be dead.” Eddie said. His voice was dull and heavy. Richie felt a pang of fear jolt through him, but he shrugged it off. Ignored it.

“The silver slugs worked on IT, Eds. We all know IT plays by the rules of whatever form it takes, and IT was a werewolf, Eddie.” Richie said numbly. He could feel Eddie’s blank stare as much as he could see it. He missed Eddie’s real eyes, something about the blank white stare didn’t do it for him in the same way as Eddie’s old baby blues. “And then I saw them… saw the deadlights. Right before the end.” Richie said.

Eddie was not sure what ‘end’ Richie was referring to. IT’s end? Eddie’s end? Or…

Richie breathed in deep. Like he was about to go underwater.

“And IT bit me. The ritual of Chüd, the tongues, IT bit me! IT bit right into my soul. Eddie, I could feel it, sinking in teeth covered in the remnants of its last meals.” He clutched a hand to his chest.

“I could feel it, Eddie. And I could feel it again when IT died. And then suddenly I could feel you there too.”

Eddie lifted one trembling hand to sit on Richie’s chest, where his heart sat.

“I just wanted to put you back… I put you back. See, your eyes’ve got their colour again.” Richie said.

It was true, Eddie’s eyes were now back to their normal blue and the dreadful pallor of his skin was returning to normal as well. He also wasn’t bleeding anymore, his missing arm was just… back in its place, as if it had never been torn off. Even his cheek had healed where Bowers had stabbed through it. There wasn’t even a scar.

Eddie swallowed. Richie could see from the lines of his face that he was having a panic attack, the kind he always used to get just before he used his inhaler. But he wasn’t gasping for air this time. At that moment Richie wasn’t entirely sure that he was breathing at all.

“What did IT do to you, Richie?” Eddie’s voice was trembling and full of concern. Richie smiled. Good old Eds. No ‘what did you do to me?', simply ‘what did IT do to you?’.

So he answered the question Eddie should have asked, instead.

“I brought you back.”

Eddie looked over at his hand, where it still sat over Richie’s heart, and slowly pulled it away. As if he hadn’t realised he’d been there all this time.

Eddie didn’t ask why.

“Are you still… Richie? Are you still…”

“You’re so cute, Eds.” Richie said, interrupting him.

Eddie briefly looked both flustered and exasperated. He was pink-cheeked and fighting off a smile at Richie’s joke. But there was worry in his eyes, and his face fell again in an instant.

“Are you still… human?” He finished his sentence.

Richie felt another pang of fear roil through his guts. He tried not to let it show on his face, but from the change in Eddie’s expression he didn’t think that had worked.

“Am I still human?” Eddie asked, as if his last question had already been answered.

“I don’t know.” Richie said immediately. He didn’t want to lie or dodge the question or force Eddie to read his mind. Eddie deserved the truth about himself.

The tunnel, which had been falling down around them started to slow until eventually it was as if time was standing still. Fragments of stone rubble floated in the air.

“We should go back up. You should see the others.” Richie said to Eddie. “They think you’re dead. They’ll want to see you. They’ll want to see you-“

“They didn’t stay.” Eddie said, not with any judgement or malice, just stating a fact. “Why did you stay?”

Richie clamped his teeth down on his tongue before shaking his head. “You already know.”

“Tell me why you stayed.” Eddie begged. “Just… tell me.”

Richie felt like something living was wriggling around inside his heart, a warm but invading force. He felt a little sick. He opened his mouth and no sound came out.

Eddie’s expression was serious, but Richie couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“I stayed because… I-I-I…” He paused to gasp for air, but before he knew it he was hyperventilating. So this was what it felt like, Richie thought, remembering Eddie desperately puffing on his old inhaler.

“Jesus, Richie! You-” Eddie started to say before he noticed something laying on the ground in front of him. He picked it up, eyes as wide as tennis balls. He offered it to Richie silently, on his palm. His old inhaler.

Richie grabbed it and used it, desperately puffing the cool spray with the medicine taste down into his throat, and finally he caught his breath back.

They stared at each other in stunned silence.

They both turned around as they heard a clatter. What must be fifty inhalers, all sporting the initials E.K. in faded ink, scattered across the floor of the tunnel. Richie reached out towards Eddie and gripped his arm tightly, clinging to it.

They both watched fearfully, as if waiting for IT to jump out of the shadows once more. But IT didn’t. Nothing else happened.

Richie softened his grip on Eddie’s arm. He should’ve let go entirely, he knew he should’ve, but he didn’t want to.

“What’s happening to me, Eds?” He asked, in a small voice. The tunnel had nearly put itself entirely back together by now. Eddie turned to look at Richie, he glanced briefly at the hand on his arm before looking into Richie’s eyes.

Eddie didn’t need to answer. They both already knew the answer.

Then Eddie looked away again. “Tell me why you stayed.” He said.

Richie shook his head. His eyes felt hot and his skin felt tight.

“Please? You’ve got all the inhalers you could need. Even if you have to use all of them, I want to hear you say it.”

By this point Richie could feel the tears spilling down his cheeks. “That’s cold, Eds.” He choked out, in a sad and feeble attempt at a joke. It was true. The joke was true, the jokes were always true. ‘I love ya, Eds!’ And he was so alone. And he was so… hollow.

“It’s ok.” Eddie said softly. “Tell me.”

“I love you. I’ve… always… loved you.” Richie finally admitted. No voices. No jokes.

Eddie stared at Richie for a moment, then threw his arms around him in a clumsy hug. A normal, old clumsy hug. It was the kind of thing they would have done when they were kids, and somehow that made it feel so… right. Richie had pictured this moment before. But he had always pictured it in two specific ways. The first, and the most common, was Eddie turning away from him, telling him he never wanted to see his face again. And in the second, which generally slipped itself into his mind seemingly without permission, Eddie would pull him into a passionate kiss. Richie realised, from the warm clutches of Eddie’s hug, that both of those ideas had been ridiculous. He lowered his head to rest on Eddie’s shoulder, and clutched his arms tightly around Eddie’s chest. This… this was perfect. He couldn’t ask for any more than this.

Richie and Eddie climbed out of the sewer, through the same path that their friends had already taken. And Richie helped Eddie up every step of the way, making Eddie complain every step of the way.

“We gots ta make sure ya' get there in one piece, Eds. I worry!” Richie said in a joking, sing-song voice.

Eddie stopped complaining, and in that moment both of them knew that Eddie would never take one of Richie’s jokes anything but seriously again.

“I’ll be ok.” Eddie assured Richie, but he was no longer fighting Richie’s attempts to help him walk.

Richie felt his heart jump up into his throat. It was something about the nakedness of having Eddie see him through the thick layers of his defences. He was overjoyed, and terrified, and just the tiniest bit turned on. It was mostly adrenaline… mostly. His skin tingled with it.

Bev and Ben were waiting there, just sitting on a nearby slab of concrete. The world around them looked wet and destroyed, like the sorts of places you see on the news after a typhoon has hit them.

“Richie!” Bev cried out and then… “Eddie?” Bev cried out as soon as she saw him. Or rather, as soon as she saw that he was alive.

She moved forwards and grabbed Eddie’s hand. “How are you alive?” She asked, with a great big smile on her face, clearly relieved to see him as such.

“I think the wound might’ve been shallower than we all thought.” Eddie said. He was pale and swayed on his feet, he wasn’t faking that. He had hidden his arm under a jacket that he’d grabbed from Richie on the way up. “I probably just passed out. I think… I think I’ll be alright.” He said with a smile that brought some warmth back to his cheeks.

Richie bit his lip. Eddie was lying, and he was lying for him. For his sake.

“Oh, God!” Bev gasped. The expression on her face was one of absolute horror. “Oh, God! And to think, if I’d stopped Rich from staying behind-“

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie said. He sounded kind enough, but Richie noticed some muscles tensing in his face. “It’s fine… I’m fine.” He held out his visible arm as if to demonstrate that fact.

“You should still get to a hospital.” Ben said, with concern. “And quickly, too. Just in case, just to make absolutely sure you’ll be ok.”

He moved around to Eddie’s side and slid an arm around him to support his weight. Ben’s eyes met Richie’s and Richie moved over to do the same on the other side. Richie got the supposedly armless side and helped Eddie hide it under the jacket.

The hospital staff checked over Eddie thoroughly, but they couldn’t find anything wrong with him. Not anything at all. Nothing to stitch up. They said he didn’t even have high blood pressure, which Eddie knew he had. He’d been on a special diet for it, no salt, for about a year now.

Richie stayed by his side the whole time, he refused to leave the room. Even though Eddie was fine. And he was… really quiet the whole time. Scarily quiet.

They went to see Mike before they left. Mike, recovering from the wounds that Henry Bowers had given him in the library. Mike was overjoyed to see them both and to see them alive.

“As soon as I recover, I’m leaving Derry for good.” Mike told them. “So if there’s any place else that you guys would recommend I’m all ears. Any place at all.”

They took a cab back from the hospital to the hotel that they’d been staying in. They rode in silence, but Eddie heard Richie muttering under his breath a few times. The bits Eddie had been able to make out sounded like… “I’m Richie Tozier… I’m not a clown… I’m not a werewolf… I’m Richie. Richie Tozier. Not a mummy… Not a monster…”

Eddie swallowed nervously. He moved his hand over and rested it on Richie’s. Richie’s eyes flickered over to Eddie. His tense facial expression slackened. Then he offered Eddie a small and shaky smile.

When they got to the hotel, Richie turned to move away, to head back to his own room, but Eddie grabbed his wrist and Richie stopped dead in his tracks.

“Richie.” Eddie said. “I want to… no I need to tell you something… about Myra.”

Richie turned to Eddie, his face ashen. “What about Myra?”

“I… I don’t love Myra.” Eddie admitted. “I mean, for God’s sakes, I married my mother!” He exclaimed, and then looked searchingly into Richie’s eyes. “I just thought you should know.”

Richie lifted his hand to Eddie’s cheek, and held it there tentatively. Eddie just stood there and watched him, as if waiting for him to do something.

Richie slowly leaned forwards until their noses almost bumped against each other. But then he hesitated.

“Why would you tell me that?” Richie whispered.

Eddie swallowed nervously. “Why do you think?” He asked.

Richie looked at him in sheer disbelief. “You don’t.” He said, and it was not a question, it was a statement of fact.

“I don’t… know.” Eddie said. “I just don’t know, not now, not yet. But maybe-”

Richie captured Eddie’s lips between his own, kissed him, and then pulled away.

Eddie looked up at him with the same questioning gaze. Then he leaned forward and before Richie knew what he was doing, Eddie was kissing him. Eddie kissed him gently and sweetly. And Richie no longer cared about the past or the future, he only focused on this moment, because this moment was precious.

They suddenly broke apart as the hall exploded with confetti with a loud bang, both hearts pounding in their chests. They watched for signs of a red balloon, of a monster, for sharpened, glistening teeth in the shadows but it was only them. It was only the two of them.

Richie went pale, and Eddie turned to him, his eyes demanding answers.

“That… that’s never happened to me before.” Richie joked with a shaky voice and a nervous laugh.

Eddie’s mouth fell open. His pert, soft lips parting gently. God, Richie wanted to kiss him again- but this was not the time, what the hell was wrong with him?

“So it was you.” Eddie said. “I thought it might… but it was… The inhalers were-”

“I think so.” Richie whispered.

They both froze as the squeak of wheels sounded up the hall. After what seemed like forever, a trolley cart stacked with toilet paper and cleaning products was wheeled around the corner by a middle aged woman in a grey smock. She wheeled it through the confetti without giving it a single glance, as if it wasn’t even there, and then continued on her way, even as it piled up about the wheels and was thrown about in every direction.

They watched on in careful silence until she had popped her head into all the rooms and left for the next stretch of hall.

Then Eddie turned to Richie. “You **_think_** so?” He whispered. “So you don’t…”

“Well I wasn’t trying to do any of that, you know? It’s like some sort of deep-down subconscious thing. So I don’t really control it, if I even am the one who’s doing it, which I don’t know.” Richie whispered back.

Eddie looked at Richie with concern, before turning away. “See you tomorrow Richie.” He said.

“See you tomorrow Eds.” Richie said.

“Wait!” Eddie said as Richie turned to leave, but without even turning his head. “You’d better mean it.”

“What?” Richie asked.

“When you say ‘see you tomorrow’, then you’d better mean it. Don’t you run off before morning. Don’t you leave me here alone.”

Richie grinned in tired disbelief. “What, in this hotel?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said. “In this hotel.”

And Richie remembered that Henry Bowers stabbed Eddie in this hotel. In his room. And in the face.

“We can swap rooms if you like.” He offered.

“No.” Eddie said. “Just don’t go.”

“Alright, then.” Richie said. “I won’t go.”

Eddie nodded his head, as if to say that would do, and then left to go to his room.

Richie went back to his own room as well.

And as they lay there in their separate rooms, neither one of them was able to sleep a wink.


	2. Day Two, In the Hotel

**Part One: A New Life and Death for Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier**

**Chapter 2 – Day Two, In the Hotel**

**_"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;  
Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly.  
"There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin,  
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in."  
"O no, no," said the little fly, "for I've often heard it said,  
They NEVER, NEVER WAKE again, who sleep upon YOUR bed."_ **

**_From The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt_ **

The next day they were greeted by Bill, who gave each of them an enthusiastic hug. “I couldn’t believe it when Ben told me, but now just to see you standing there, Eddie, it’s a marvel.”

Eddie looked embarrassed and his eyes flicked over towards Richie. “Thanks, Bill.”

“I only wish Audra could have been so lucky.” Bill added, biting on his lip.

“Audra?” Richie asked. He’d almost forgotten about Audra. “Audra’s not dead is she?”

“Dead? No.” Bill said with a shake of his head. “But she’s unresponsive. It’s like the lights are on but there’s no-one home, you know?”

“The lights…” Richie whispered.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Bill.” Eddie said.

“Could I see her? Audra, I mean.” Richie asked.

“Yeah, sure you can.” Bill said, although he looked kinda confused by the request. After all, Richie had never even met Audra before.

“What are you doing?” Eddie whispered, as they followed a little bit behind Bill.

“I figured if I fixed you, maybe I could fix her too.” Richie whispered back. “I just thought I’d try.”

Eddie looked surprisingly concerned by that. “Just be careful.” He said quietly.

When Richie saw Audra, he was taken aback by just how strange it was. She was sitting up, staring blankly ahead at the wall. Her eyes weren’t even moving about in their sockets. When Bill opened the door, she didn’t react in any way.

Richie went and sat beside her on the bed, and he put one hand on top of hers. Bill stepped forwards but Eddie stopped him. “Don’t worry.” Eddie said. “It’ll be ok.”

Richie closed his eyes. “Uhhh, how do I do this?” He asked aloud.

“Don’t ask me. I don’t know.” Eddie replied.

Richie’s lips twitched into a slight smile. “Oh yeah, right.” He said.

Then Richie scrunched up his nose, and slowly Audra did too.

Richie, with his eyes still closed, spoke. “I think I’ve got something, there.”

Bill stared at Audra in shock.

Then Richie bit his lip, and Audra gasped, and screamed. Richie let go of Audra’s hand like it was a white hot flame and Bill rushed over to his wife.

“Oh, Bill. I don’t know what happened!” She cried out, being cradled in Bill’s arms. “I was there, and there was something else, and then everything was gone!” She broke down into sobs.

Richie stood up awkwardly. He looked tired, Eddie noticed, around his eyes.

“How on earth did you do that, Richie?” Bill asked, still cradling Audra, with a big smile on his face.

And then the smile went. “How on earth did you do that?” he repeated.

Richie just shrugged. Now he could almost feel Bill’s eyes burning him.

Eddie opened his mouth to make an excuse. But Richie didn’t see it. He was only focused on Bill’s distrustful stare.

Then the alarm-clock radio turned on by itself. For a moment they heard only static, and then they heard a little voice.

“Everyone knows that Richie’s the clown.” It said, with a little giggle. “Richie’s a clown, Richie’s **_the_** clown! Laugh! Laugh! Laugh! Laugh! La-“

Eddie had ripped the alarm-clock off of its perch and thrown it to the floor, before smashing it to pieces with one of Audra’s high heeled shoes.

Audra looked like she was about to faint. Bill’s expression was dark and impossible to discern. Richie’s face was pale, and shining with sweat across the brow. His breathing was fast and unsteady. That wasn’t Pennywise’s voice. But he still recognised it. It belonged to a girl he once knew in fourth grade, a girl who he’d asked out but who had turned him down because she thought he was a joke. Mandy Thompson. It had been a long time since he’d last thought about her. But that voice… her voice… It was coming from inside him, wasn’t it?

“Oh God, I thought we killed IT!” Bill asked. “Didn’t IT die? Is IT still out there?”

“Bill.” Eddie said gently, in an attempt to stop Bill from speaking.

Richie swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly up and down. “We did. We killed IT.” He said.

“Then what-” Bill started to ask.

“I’ve gotta go.” Richie interrupted him, pushing his way out of the door. Eddie shot Bill and Audra one last look before following after Richie.

“You’re not a clown.” Eddie said when he caught up to Richie. “You’re a comedian.”

Richie stared at Eddie wide-eyed for a moment and then let out a tired chuckle, leaning forwards and resting his head on Eddie’s neck. Up close, Eddie could see that even Richie’s hair was soaked in sweat. Eddie put his arms around Richie and held him tightly, until he could feel the tremors of Richie’s laughter wracking through his body.

“That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard.” Richie mumbled.

Eddie didn’t tell him that he hadn’t been joking. Or that Richie leaning on him like that was putting a crick in his neck.

“You’re not IT either.” Is what he said.

“But I am.” Richie said. He moved his head so his lips were almost pressed against Eddie’s neck. The buzz of his voice and the warm puff of breath against Eddie’s skin made him feel jittery. Almost electric.

“You might have inherited IT’s powers, but you’re not IT.” Eddie said. “You’re not Pennywise. You’re Richie Tozier… stupid.” He added fondly.

He waited for Richie to say something. He almost wanted Richie to say something, just so that he could feel his voice against his neck again. But he wasn’t expecting Richie to press his lips up right against the skin of his neck, and kiss him there.

“Richie.” Eddie said.

“Yes, Eddie my love?” Richie asked, pressing another kiss against his neck.

“We’re still in the hallway.” Eddie said.

Richie stood up and separated himself from Eddie, and looked around as if surprised. “Right we are, Eds.”

“Hey Richie?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah?”

“D’you wanna get room service?”

“Ok.” Richie said with a grin, even though he wasn’t feeling hungry.

Eddie ordered some soup, and Richie got a pastrami sandwich. What Richie really wanted was booze, and he wasn’t feeling picky. He hadn’t had a drink in around forty or so hours and it felt like an eternity. On the other hand, he didn’t quite feel like finding out what would happen if he got drunk or even tipsy, now. So he settled for the sandwich.

Richie took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it slowly. Then he swallowed. There was something odd about it. It wasn’t bad and it wasn’t off. It was something else. He finished the whole thing before he realised. He was just as tired as before, and he didn’t feel full. The sandwich didn’t do squat. And even though he didn’t feel hungry right now… What was going to happen when he got hungry?

Then he noticed Eddie with a packet of mints, and forgot everything else entirely. Eddie popped a mint in his mouth, he probably thought he was doing it discreetly. Did it mean what he thought it might mean?

“Can I have one?” He asked.

Eddie twitched nervously when he asked for one, and Richie smiled. Eds was so cute, flushed and quiet as he offered the packet over to him. Richie took one. He felt the familiar burn on his tongue, a mild, kind burn. (As a big time comedian he had encountered the burns that felt much stronger.) But that was his Eddie in a nutshell, mild and kind, a little bit sweet and a little bit of kick, familiar…

Eddie moved over and sat next to him on the bed, and Richie leant over and kissed him. Eddie leant into it, moving one hand up to hold Richie’s jaw and the other to rest on the back of Richie’s head, to hold him close. Richie put one hand on Eddie’s shoulder and the other just behind Eddie’s ear. Their soft kissing turned lustful fast, their tongues in each other’s mouths. Eddie’s teeth scraped against Richie’s, and Richie wasn’t surprised that he was such an awkward kisser. It didn’t matter, he still loved it.

Eddie moaned into Richie’s mouth, and Richie felt that go right to his crotch.

Then they broke apart, panting.

“Holy Crap.” Eddie said.

“Yeah.”

“No seriously.” Eddie said, pointing at the wallpaper. “Holy Crap.”

Richie, for the first time ever, looked at the wallpaper. There were hearts carved all over the fading flowery green, and in each heart it said R+E. Richie and Eddie. Richie remembered carving one of those on the kissing bridge when he was a kid. He swallowed.

“You sure it wasn’t like that before?” Richie joked.

“Pretty sure.” Eddie said.

“Do you think I redecorated just this room, or do you think I did the entire hotel?”

“God, I hope not!” Eddie exclaimed, his voice a little nervous and squeaky.

Richie opened the door and peeked down the hall. “Nope, we’re good.” He said.

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief and flopped back on the bed.

“You know, intentional or not, this is kinda intense.” He said, closing his eyes.

“Uhh, well, I-“

“I know, I know.” Eddie said. “Completely unintentional. I mean, I figure I’m kinda seeing right inside your head when this stuff happens. And that’s not fair on either of us, right? But since we can’t do anything about it…” Eddie took in a deep breath through his nose. “I’ll try to pretend it isn’t there. I’ll try.”

Richie got back on the bed and lay back next to Eddie. He was surprised when Eddie moved down so he was resting his head in the crook of Richie’s shoulder.

Oh God this was torture. It was beautiful, beautiful torture. Just laying here together doing nothing. Richie’s arm was prickling with a thousand pins and needles and he was trying very hard to ignore an impending semi, but at the same time he could feel Eddie’s warmth and smell his hair. It smelled like anti-dandruff shampoo, the kind that was strong and chemical, but there was something else mixed in there, something that smelled warm and familiar and alive. He loved that smell, he loved Eddie’s smell.

He wasn’t surprised that Eddie didn’t get what this was doing to him. Because sure Eddie was a man, but he only fucked girls that looked like his mom, and his mom was no catch. His brand of love was more innocent, more about an eagerness to please, and Richie almost hoped to God that it was also less sexual. He really didn’t want to think about Eddie doing sex shit with his mom (or mom substitute). Oh good, at least Richie’s potential semi had made up its mind and decided not to come around for a visit.

“Hey Richie?” Eddie said.

“Yeah, Eds?” Richie asked.

“I should call Myra at some point and tell her. Tell her… oh God, what should I tell her?”

“You should tell her whatever you want to tell her.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what that is!”

“I’m not gonna tell you what to say, Eds. You’re a big boy now, after all.” Richie spoke that last bit in one of his voices, high pitched and shrill.

“Nngh. That’s kinda loud when my ear is on your chest. I swear, that’s how people pop their eardrums.” Eddie complained.

“Sorry.” Richie said in his regular voice, soft and deep, before putting one hand in Eddie’s hair and gently mussing it about.

“S’okay.” Eddie mumbled.

Eddie grabbed his phone before he left the room and went out into the hall. Richie could hear him pacing back and forth, back and forth, over and over again.

Then Eddie pushed the door open with enough force for it to bang against the wall, Richie could hear the open phone line on the other end beeping.

“Richie!” Eddie cried out. He sounded upset. “Richie!” He went over and shook Richie as if trying to wake him up, even though he was already awake. “Richie!”

“What?” Richie asked, unable to stop a whine from creeping into his voice.

“Richie, it’s Myra. I called her, I called her to tell her but… Richie, she said she didn’t know who I am! Before I could even tell her anything, even! I said Myra, it’s Eddie, and Myra said she didn’t know of any Eddie! Maybe she’s had a stroke or an aneurysm, or…”

Eddie stared at Richie in disbelief. And Richie figured he was probably right to, because a little part of him did just want Myra to forget that Eddie even existed. And IT made them all forget things when they left Derry. And he still couldn’t control it.

Eddie let out a funny little scream and tackled Richie, it was play fighting more than anything else, but he could tell that Eddie was actually pissed.

“You… stupid… asshole!” Eddie said as he wrestled with Richie, but then as quickly as he had started he stopped and all the fight left him.

“I’ve gotta go see her, Richie. I’ve gotta go see her!”

“I know, Eddie.” Richie said. “Of course you do. Heck, I’ll even drive you there if you like. So please, stop crying.” He put a hand up to brush Eddie’s cheek. He was indeed crying.

Eddie looked stunned, as if he hadn’t even noticed the tears dribbling down his cheeks until Richie pointed them out.

He opened his mouth as if grasping for an explanation. “I just really hate the idea that she could just forget me, Richie.”

“Well, yeah.” Richie said. “Anyone would hate that… it sucks.”

Eddie climbed off of Richie and turned around to face the wall. Richie could hear him sniffling into his pillow.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” Richie said.

Eddie stopped sniffling, but he didn’t say anything back.


	3. Day Three, On the Road

**Part One: A New Life and Death for Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier**

**Chapter 3 – Day Three, On the Road**

**_Said the cunning spider to the fly, "Dear friend, what shall I do,  
To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?  
I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;  
I'm sure you're very welcome; will you please to take a slice?"  
"O no, no," said the little fly, "kind sir, that cannot be;  
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see."_ **

**_From The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt_ **

The next day Richie rented a car, so he could drive Eddie to Myra’s himself. He felt just awful for doing that to Eddie, and he needed to find some way to make it up to him.

They drove it through the familiar landscape of Derry. When they were kids, Derry had been the entire world to them. And sure it was scary, and old fashioned and sometimes even very boring (disregarding Pennywise of course), but it was all there was then. It was all they knew back then.

Richie drove them across the boundary line of the little town. He saw the old sign that announced that they were leaving Derry. He knew that on the other side it would say ‘Welcome to Derry’.

Beyond that there was mostly empty fields, the odd ones had livestock or crops, but it was mostly scraggly unkempt swathes of land.

And then Eddie let out a little sound. “Oh God! Richie! Stop!” He cried out.

Richie turned to Eddie. Eddie was missing his arm again and dark blood drenched his side. His eyes were milky white, and his skin… his skin was scabbed and mottled. He looked like he was dead. No… Richie knew what Eddie feared the most, and that was exactly what he looked like. Eddie looked like the leper. The one he always said IT showed him. Richie slammed on the brakes.

Eddie started hyperventilating. He was shaking and he was crying. Richie held him by the shoulder, trying to soothe him, to find some way to make this ok. But then Eddie’s eyes snapped up to Richie’s face. His jaw dropped and tears spilled silently down his cheeks. On one side, they pooled into the gaping hole on his face where Henry Bowers had stabbed him.

“Oh Richie! Oh… you… no. Oh God!” Eddie cried, unable to even string together a coherent sentence.

“I’m going to turn the car around.” Richie said.

After around ten minutes of driving in silence they were back within the town limits and Eddie looked completely normal again.

“I’m sorry Eddie. I didn’t know, I’m so sorry I-“

Eddie didn’t turn his head to look at Richie. He just kept staring out of the window. “Don’t apologise for saving my life, Tozier.” He snapped. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m not!” Richie said. “I’m not apologising for that! I’m apologising because I didn’t, Eddie! You must realise by now that that you died down in that sewer!”

Eddie didn’t say anything at all.

“I get why that freaks you out. I mean I would be freaked out too, but I get why that really freaks you out.”

“Beep-Beep, Richie.”

Eddie hadn’t said that to Richie since he’d died.

“Eddie…” Richie said. He’d never felt hurt by it before, but now the old familiar teasing suddenly stung.

“Shut up, Richie!”

All of a sudden the car rolled gently to a stop.

“What are you doing, Richie?” Eddie complained.

“I’m not doing anything!” Richie said. And then the car literally fell to pieces around them. They both tumbled onto the road and scrambled back up to their feet again. “At least, I’m not meaning to do anything.”

And then a tiny toy soldier walked by, stiff-legged and painted bright red, a large brass key turning slowly in its back. It stood no more than ten inches off the ground.

“Richie, stop it!” Eddie said, and he sounded scared.

“I don’t know how!” Richie cried out as the soldier stopped and saluted him gayly, before turning around and getting back to its march.

The tiny soldier reached Eddie, and then it turned to face him.

“I’m sorry, Richie!” Eddie cried out.

“No… fuck no!” Richie shouted. “It’s ok if you’re mad at me, Eddie, it’s ok! I’d be mad at me too! I’m trying to stop it. I really am, I swear!”

“Richie!” Eddie called out his name, fearfully.

Then the toy soldier opened his mouth. “Are you afraid of me, Eddie?” It asked him, and it said it in Richie’s voice. “Do you hate me now too? Well man the fuck up Eddie, Cuz you’d be dead if it wasn’t for me! Dead! Nothing but a pile of rotten flesh and greedy worms at the bottom of the sewer.”

“No!” Richie screamed. He wanted to shut it up but he couldn’t control it. He wanted to smash it, but he couldn’t even make himself move. “That’s not… I don’t…"

The way Eddie looked at that thing was breaking his heart.

“A soldier, son, gets shot. He gets gangrene.” Each of the toy soldier’s limbs was blasted off, as if it was the target in a firing range, and it fell down backwards. “He gets infections and he spits on them. He gets fucked by life and he fucks life right back!” It lay there face up on the road, crippled and broken but still speaking to Eddie.

“Your mother made you soft. All your constant fuckin’ whinin’. So why don’t you shut up! Beep! Beep! Fuckin’! Eddie!” It screamed, and then its head exploded, a tiny spray of slick red blood across the road.

Richie turned to Eddie. “I didn’t mean that. I swear I didn’t mean any of that. You know I can’t control it!”

Eddie’s legs collapsed out from under him and he sat there, stunned, in the middle of the road.

“I don’t feel that way. You know I don’t feel that way Eddie, I love you!” Richie begged. “I love everything about you! Everything just as it is, I wouldn’t change a thing! Please, Eddie I…”

Eddie stood up shakily.

“Eddie-“

Eddie held out a hand behind him and Richie watched silently as Eddie stumbled towards the bushes to throw up.

Richie closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see that, he didn’t want to see what he’d done to Eddie. He wanted to sock himself in the jaw so bad. But instead he just stood there, silently hating himself.

The he heard Eddie’s voice from over near the bushes. It was shaky, but at this point Richie would have been surprised if it wasn’t. “Ok. So we can’t leave Derry. We can’t go back to our jobs. I can’t see Myra again. Oh, and technically I’m dead. Add to that some serious work being needed for you to learn to control your shit!” That last bit was spat out angrily and clearly directed at Richie. “Who can help with that. Who knows how to… Mike. Mike might be able to. Shit, we’ve got to stop Mike from leaving! I don’t know, is he even still here or did he go already?”

Eddie ran to Richie and grabbed him, pulling him along with him as he walked. “I assume you don’t know how to fix the car?” He said, and Richie shook his head. Without even looking back at him Eddie continued talking. “Mike’s done all that research, Mike’s sure to-“ Then Eddie came to a dead stop. “But no, we can’t, Mike might kill you.”

“Kill me?” Richie said. “Mike wouldn’t kill me. We’re friends. All of us are a team, none of us would-”

“Come on.” Eddie said. “He’s been obsessed for years. Obsessed with killing IT. Are you really certain he likes you enough to just let that part of him go? You really think he wouldn’t try to kill you next? Aside from me, do you think any of them wouldn’t?”

“Bev.” Richie answered instantly. “Stan also wouldn’t have done it, but I just know Bev wouldn’t.”

Eddie whirled around to look at Richie. “Well, what makes you think that?”

“Because she’s Bev!” Richie said. “Of course she’d understand.”

“And what about Ben?” Eddie asked.

“Well I think Ben wouldn’t either, especially if Bev didn’t want him to.”

“And Bill?” Eddie asked.

Richie remembered Bill’s expression after Richie had saved Audra. The strange distrustful look he gave him.

“Bill.” Richie hesitated. “I think that maybe he just would, kill me I mean.”

“Yeah. I think that too.” Eddie said.

“It hurts, thinking Bill could hate me.” Richie said.

“I know.” Eddie said. “But he wouldn’t hate you. It’s not really you. He just hates IT, that’s all. Like all of us do. But I think he’d be too blinded by that hatred to understand that that’s not you. It’s him and Mike that I’m afraid of most in that regard.”

“We all love you, Richie.” Eddie added. “All of us do.”

“Are you sure you don’t hate me?” Richie said it in joking tones, but they both knew he was serious. “I mean, I’m King Creepy over here right now, and on top of that I just acted like a total asshole.”

“Well in regards to the creepy thing, who am I to judge? I’m dead.” Eddie said shortly. “And yeah, you are a total asshole. But I know you didn’t mean it. I mean, you just did the emotional equivalent of shitting your pants in front of me, and I can’t get all mad at you for that. Like emotional food poisoning or something.” “You have a condition, Richie.” Eddie’s tone quickly went from serious to teasing, a small smile breaking out on his face.

“Oh yeah?” Richie said. “Do I need some… now what are they called again… gazebos?”

Eddie grinned widely. “Assface!” He called out, as loudly as he could.

“Dickhole!” Richie cried out and laughed.

“Cocksucker!” Eddie cried out happily.

“Isn’t that a bit below the belt?” Richie feigned offence.

“Well, obviously.” Eddie said happily.

“I meant 'cause that one’s true.” Richie said.

Eddie paused for a second. “Oh… fuck!” He cried out, in an exaggerated fashion, while wearing an expression of surprised realization across his face.

“I’m told I’m pretty good!” Richie sang.

Eddie expression became more serious. “No. No way… not tonight.” He said, with the tension that had only just left now returning to his voice.

“Yeah. That is more than fair.” Richie acknowledged, grimly.

“Jesus it’s a long way back by foot.” Eddie said, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Eds?” Richie said.

“Yeah?”

“I wanna talk to Mike.”

“But didn’t we just-“

“I wanna talk to Mike anyways. I just wanna see if he can help. And if Mike decides that he wants to see me dead, well, I’ll deal with it as I go. But I can’t… I can’t keep going on like this Eds.”

“I don’t think we should-“

“What happens when I get hungry, Eds?” Richie asked softly.

Eddie’s silence was deafening.

“I haven’t felt hungry since we fought IT. Not at all. So what happens when I get hungry? I… I don’t know, Eds. I don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

“But you ate before we… I saw you eat!”

“I did, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel right.”

“Pennywise only got hungry about once every thirty years.” Eddie said. “So shouldn’t it be thirty years before we even need to think about this?”

“Twenty-seven years.” Richie corrected. “It was twenty-seven years. And Eddie, this isn’t like you. Since when did you not think ahead? Plan ahead? Worry ahead?”

“I fucking died, Richie.” Eddie said. “I thought, I planned, I worried and I still... _**died**_. So maybe I don’t wanna spend my time on worrying anymore.”

“Everything’s so freaky right now, Eddie. So can’t you just be normal? Can’t you be my normal, old Eds right now? Please?”

“Your normal old Eds wouldn’t have kissed you, Richie.”

Well that was true, Richie supposed. Maybe Eddie was having some sort of… end of life crisis. Maybe next he’d buy a leather jacket and a sports car.

“I’m still gonna talk to Mike, Eds.” Richie said. “You’ve gotta understand my problem here. I mean, I just hurt you… but what if I **_hurt_** you? I couldn’t live with myself, Eds. Not if I did that.”

“And what if it doesn’t change anything, Richie?” Eddie asked. “What if you’re just stuck like this, with all these powers and no real control? What are you going to do then?”

For once in his life, Richie didn’t say anything.

They went back to the hotel and again they stayed in separate rooms. Richie called Mike from his hotel phone, it was almost two in the morning by the time he summoned up the courage, but he knew that Mike would still pick up.

Mike had grown up almost the exact opposite of Ben that way. Mike was an outgoing kid, sharp but fun and endlessly courageous. But he grew into the sort of man who always had dark shadows under his eyes from staying up into the night reading under poor lamp light.

So as Richie expected, Mike did pick up. And he didn’t even seem annoyed by it either.

“Hello?”

“Hello Mike, it’s Richie.”

He could almost feel Mike smiling across the phone lines. No, actually he could feel it. The same way he could feel that Eddie was tossing and turning in his sleep. The same way he could feel the hotel desk clerk fiddling with the dials on his little radio, switching the channels about endlessly. It would be funny to give him a little scare. To just tell him to “Just pick something already!”

The clerk dropped his radio. Richie sat there unblinkingly, trying to process what he’d just done when…

“Richie? Hello? Richie, what’s wrong?” Richie snapped out of his stupor when he finally noticed Mike’s confusion. He’d let the line go dead. He cleared his throat. “Sorry Mike. I’m here. I’m here. I just… got distracted.”

“As much as I love to burn the midnight oil…” Mike said. “Is there a reason why you called me?”

“Say Mike.” Richie said. “Would it be alright if I were to head to your place, so we can have a real talk?”

“Sure thing, Richie.” Mike said. “Sure thing. See you there soon.” Then the line went dead.


	4. Day Four, When Richie Tells Mike

**Part One: A New Life and Death for Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier**

**Chapter 4 – Day Four, When Richie Tells Mike**

**_"Sweet creature!" said the spider, "you're witty and you're wise,  
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!  
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,  
If you step in one moment dear, you shall behold yourself."  
"I thank you gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,  
And bidding you good-morning NOW, I'll call ANOTHER day."_ **

**_From The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt_ **

Mike got Richie something to drink. Cocoa with a bit of rum. Mike had offered the stuff plain… but even Richie knew better than to take it now. Even though he badly craved the burn in his throat and belly and that light, floating feeling… Well, he had absolutely no idea what would happen if he were to get drunk now. He really couldn’t afford to risk it.

“I’m just gonna come right out and say it.” Richie said.

“Go ahead.” Mike said.

“Oh God it’s real tough to put into words.” Richie said, and then he took a deep breath. “How was Pennywise was able to control his powers? Exactly how did they function? Mike, I need to know that. Did you ever learn anything about it? In any of your research?”

Mike gripped his mug real tight. “Asking me something like that… Pennywise is dead, Richie. He’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

“Please just tell me what you know, Mike. Just tell me. Don’t make me say it, please.”

“Say what, Richie?”

Richie downed his cocoa. “Pennywise is dead… but before that… I participated in the ritual of Chüd.”

“Yeah.” Mike said.

“Well… when I did that he infected me.” Richie said. “Infected me just like the werewolf he was. You know I saw IT as a werewolf, Mike.”

Mike’s brow creased. He looked disbelieving, but also concerned.

“What are you saying?” He asked.

Richie opened his mouth to speak, but froze as a spider the size of a golf ball floated down from the ceiling on a single length of thread. It landed on the table, graceful as an acrobat, before skittering away.

The lights flickered once. Immediately as they came back on Richie and Mike both saw it. An intricately woven cobweb across the kitchen doorframe. There were words woven into it. It said:

**_Now Richie is IT_ **

**_Laugh! Laugh! Laugh!_ **

Mike paled a bit. “Holy shit.” He said.

“Yeah. That was pretty much my reaction.” Richie said. “And sorry about the cobweb… and the spider. I don’t… _**really**_ … control them. That’s why I’m here.”

“Oh God! So Eddie did die?“ Mike exclaimed, a look of horrified realization spreading across his face.

Richie just cast his eyes down at the floor and pursed his lips.

Mike stood up sharply.

“Well what was I supposed to do? Just-“

Mike walked off and Richie sat there nervously. Then Mike walked back into the kitchen with a dozen books gathered in his arms.

“Alright, I’m going to give you a few things. To start with.” Mike said. The book at the top of the pile, a History of Old Derry, was more of a pile of papers than an actual book. Richie spotted the name scrawled on the front.

“Mike… did you write this one yourself?” He asked.

“What… oh yeah.” Mike seemed distracted, Richie couldn’t blame him.

“Thanks Mike. For helping I mean.” Richie said softly. “You know Eddie was convinced you’d try to kill me or something when you found out?” He laughed nervously.

Mike continued shuffling through papers without a word.

Eventually he put them down and turned to Richie. “Look, I have no clue how IT’s powers actually work. I double checked what I have… but I’ve really got very little on it. We already know that they are alien in origin. We know that they warp reality, and that the warped reality takes on the properties of whatever it appears to be. But that’s pretty much all I have that’s even close to concrete. Have you learned anything at all since you got these powers, about how they function?”

“Only that they’re tied to my subconscious or something. Stuff keeps happening that… coincides with however I’m feeling at the time.”

“Well you could always try… meditation?” Mike said, with a crooked grin on his face. Richie just knew he thought it was absurd, not that he thought it wouldn’t work necessarily, but rather that he couldn’t picture Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier meditating to save his life.

“Yeah, right.” Richie laughed. “Meditation.”

It was almost 5am, and back in his hotel room Richie Tozier was attempting to meditate. ‘Come one, come all and see Trashmouth attempt the impossible!’

Richie sat cross legged on the bed with his eyes closed. He focused on his breathing, in and out, in and out. And then he yawned.

Richie woke up to a frantic knocking at the door. He opened it and Eddie’s concerned face peered out at him.

“It’s almost one in the afternoon, Richie! I almost thought you’d left!”

“Sorry.” Richie said with a yawn. “Late night.”

“You dick.” Eddie said, as he pushed past Richie into the room. “You went and talked to Mike alone, didn’t you?”

“I told him everything, Eds. And he agreed to help me.” Richie said.

Judging by the expression on his face, Eddie seemed to forget his annoyance with Richie in favour of hopeful excitement.

But then he grabbed Richie by the shirt collar and yanked him forwards roughly. “Never do something that stupid again.” He said, and then he pulled Richie forwards into a kiss.

Richie was taken completely by surprise. Of all the things that he had expected, he had certainly not expected Eddie to kiss him. He leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Eddie to draw him in closer, kiss him deeper.

“Woah, where’d that come from Eds?” Richie asked while catching his breath, their noses still almost touching.

“Shut up, Richie.” Eddie whispered, leaning in and shutting him up effectively with another passionate kiss.

Eddie steered him over towards the bed, and in an instant Richie felt himself being pushed down.

Richie stared up at Eddie in shock as he fell backwards onto the soft mattress.

“I thought I’d try… I just thought I’d try doing something that scares me.” Eddie said softly, as if to answer Richie’s unspoken question.

That’s unfair, Richie thought, not that he was exactly complaining about it but…

Then Eddie chuckled to himself and smiled. “You know, my mother always hated you.”

“Didn’t she hate all of us? It always seemed like she did.” Richie stammered, unsure why they were talking about it but hastily trying to avoid whatever downside he felt may be coming.

“But she **_really_** hated you.” Eddie said, before leaning in and burying his tongue in Richie’s mouth. This time the kiss was lewd and dirty, and yet it was all Eddie. And Richie never thought he’d ever be able to equate Eddie with anything lewd or dirty. He kinda thought that would be mostly his own territory.

This time when Eddie pulled back again, a long string of saliva graced his lower lip, and he wiped it off uncaringly across his bare wrist.

Richie had never been so confused and turned on… simultaneously.

“I think that’s why I always liked you best.” Eddie whispered, his eyes burning with lust.

Eddie’s hand travelled to Richie’s crotch, brushing firmly and deliberately against the quickly hardening dick through the fabric of Richie’s boxers.

“Eddie.” Richie gasped. At this point that felt like all that he could say.

Eddie tugged down Richie’s boxers. He hesitated for a moment before grasping him in hand.

Richie’s breath hitched in anticipation. He want to tell Eddie to go ahead and do it, but he was afraid that saying anything at all might scare him off.

Eddie started stroking Richie, and Richie heard himself moan. Eddie’s touch was too gentle, but it was also amazing.

“Let me touch you too.” Richie said.

Eddie’s eyes flickered away nervously. “O…ok.” He said and all of a sudden Richie felt butterflies in his stomach and at the same time a wave of relief. Yes, this certainly was his Eds. He was just being bold is all. And it was fucking gorgeous.

Richie pulled himself up and gently pushed Eddie down. He unbuckled Eddie’s pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could manage. Eddie was hard, he realised to his great delight. Then he pulled down Eddie’s white briefs.

He wanted to do all sorts of things to Eddie right then and there. All sorts of dirty, dirty things. But he didn’t want to push too far and freak Eddie out, so he started by running his hands across Eddie’s body. As soon as Richie touched Eddie he gasped quietly. Richie gently stroked a thumb over one nipple and noted, as he had expected, that Eddie had a reaction, so he leaned in and kissed it. Eddie flushed. “Don’t do that.” He said. “It’s… strange.”

“Well what would you like me to do then?” Richie asked. “Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

Eddie looked away, then he swallowed. “I… don’t know.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Did you dislike it?” Richie asked, trying to figure out what had changed.

“I… no. I did like it.” Eddie admitted. “I’m just not… used to it is all. And it’s… embarrassing.”

Richie fought with all of his power not to laugh when he realised. He had already figured Eddie for the missionary type when it came to sex, but he had not quite realised how far that extended. The fact that he’d never even engaged in such basic foreplay…

He leant in and placed open mouthed kisses down Eddie’s neck, across his pectoral muscles (this time neglecting the nipples, figuring that he would revisit the issue when Eddie was a bit less self-conscious about it.), down his stomach which was lovely and lean, and then he reached Eddie’s crotch.

Eddie stared at him with an expression of curious suspense, as Richie brushed his cock with his lips.

“Do you want to find out if I’m as good as they all say?” Richie asked.

Eddie’s breath hitched. For a moment he almost looked frightened.

“Eddie?” Richie asked. “You ok?”

Eddie relaxed, and smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, yeah. I think I do… want to find out, that is.” He breathed.

Richie leaned forwards and swiped the head with his tongue, running his fingers up and down the shaft as he did.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open and his pupils widened. His breathing got heavier.

“Oh wow. That’s… ah!”

Eddie rather quickly spurted across Richie’s glasses.

“Oh shit, sorry.” Eddie apologised nervously as Richie took his glasses off.

“I told you I was good.” Richie said smugly.

“I meant about your glasses.” Eddie said.

“Oh, that.” Richie said. “You know, I can’t see a thing without them. So I might need your help…” He gestured in the direction of his own stiffy.

Richie felt himself being pushed down by Eddie, and then felt a warm wetness on his cock. “Oh! I didn’t mean… you don’t have to go that far if-“

“I want to.” Eddie said, just before returning to the task. Suddenly, Richie felt the scrape of teeth against the side of his shaft with a little too much force to be even remotely pleasant. Not biting mind you, just clumsiness and inexperience.

“Uh, wait! Time out for a moment, Eds. Please be very, very careful with the teeth. L-less teeth.” Richie mumbled in alarm.

“Oh… sorry. Did that hurt?”

“I think I’ll live.” Richie joked. “But let’s just try to avoid that from now on, if we can, please.”

Eddie, it seems, gave up on that particular endeavour for the time being and Richie felt Eddie’s long, thin fingers slide up and down his length instead.

He rather wished that he could see properly, so that he could see Eddie do it. See the expression he made when he was doing it. But instead he focused on the feel of him. And his smell. He put his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and tugged him forwards so he could bury his nose in his shoulder, and breathe in that smell. And then eventually he came into Eddie’s hand with a soft moan.

He heard Eddie get up and go to the bathroom. The tap ran for a bit, and then Eddie asked if he should rinse Richie’s glasses for him. Richie told him to go ahead, as long as he didn’t use any soap on the lenses.

His vision came back in one beautiful moment. As Eddie put Richie’s glasses back on him, Richie’s vision came back to his gently smiling face right up close. He looked content and satisfied and just a little bit tired and very, very naked. And Richie couldn’t help but pull him forward for one more kiss.

Eddie’s nose scrunched up, and he wiped his mouth. “You just had my dick in your mouth, dude.”

“Oh, yeah.” Richie said with a laugh. “Right.”

Eddie got into the bed and curled up against Richie.

Riche could have worried over about a dozen different things in that moment, and perhaps he should have, but he didn’t. He simply enjoyed the moment, the feel of Eddie curled up next to him. He allowed himself a moment without thought, without concern, just Eddie in his arms.

And in that moment, the hotel began to change.

It wasn’t something particularly noticed by the occupants. Perhaps one or two of them gave it a passing thought, before going about their own business. It helped that it was early afternoon, a time in which the hotel generally had as little traffic as it would in hours before midnight. One singular person really noticed the changes in the hotel in that moment. Bill, while sitting at the bar in the lobby with Audra, dropped the tiny bowl of bar nuts from which he had been absent-mindedly snacking, sending it and its contents skittering across the floor. Audra turned to Bill and noticed his open-mouthed stare, but nothing else.

“Maybe we should get out of here quickly.” Audra said to Bill, not knowing what was causing the expression but knowing that something was wrong. “I don’t like this place, Bill. And I almost get the feeling that it’s mutual.”

Bill laughed once, short and sharp and a little cold. Audra tucked her hair behind her ear and stared into her glass, afraid she was being laughed at. ‘ ** _Laugh, Laugh, Laugh, Laugh-_** ‘ She couldn’t stop herself as she shivered.

“Sorry.” Bill said. “It’s just that… I don’t think you’d realise how right you are.”

“Welcome, Welcome, Welcome!” Said a voice from the stage.

Audra frowned at that. “That’s funny, it’s an odd kind of time to have a performance. At two-forty-seven in the afternoon, and on a weekday.” She said to Bill, under her breath.

Bill’s expression was hard and cold. “Yeah, it is.”

Audra cocked her head to the side and regarded her husband cautiously.

The performer on the stage was a thin, dark haired man with sallow features, hunched over on a tall bar stool. He was not someone she recognised.

“That’s what I’m here for darlin’. It’s my job to be funny. To make you laugh, laugh, laugh.” He said over the mike from across the room, responding directly to Audra. He had some sort of cheesy sounding British accent, one that she could have sworn was fake.

Audra slipped her hand over to Bill’s knee and gripped it tightly. There was something simply… chilling… about the attentions of this man. She didn’t like him one bit. And how did he hear her so far across the room? Had she been speaking that loudly?

And no one else there seemed to be paying the slightest bit of attention to what was going on between the three of them.

“You know, I’ve only recently started writing my own material. And I’m finding the experience has been… rather freeing.” The man said.

“What’s the difference between a killer clown and a werewolf?” He asked, and then looked straight at Bill. Bill’s skin blanched white and Audra watched her husband nervously. She knew that something was very wrong but she didn’t know what yet. “Guess Bill, guess!” The man said excitedly, and waited for a moment. “You wanna know the answer?” He asked and then chuckled to himself. “It’s that you simply can’t put a collar on me!” All of a sudden the man was wearing a silver suit with fluffy, bright orange buttons. She hadn’t noticed that before. He grinned widely and giggled at his own joke, and Bill looked like he was about to throw up. “Say, Bill. You’ve always laughed for me before, what’s changed? Let’s all hear that adooorable laugh of yours!”

“I’ve never found you funny, and I’ve never laughed at you.” Bill whispered under his breath.

“Haven’t you, **_Big Bill?_** ” The man asked, and Bill’s blood ran cold. “I know you have. **_You_** were my first audience, after all!”

Bill grit his teeth. “What are you talking about? I-Is it what you did to G-g-georgie, you b-bastard?”

The man on the stage dropped his microphone. It emitted a loud thud and squeal as it landed and rolled across the floor. Yet no one else looked up.

Then he just stared at Bill, with sad, terrified eyes. The eyes of a child.

“No, Bill. I just… you always laughed at my jokes is all. You were my first friend. And then you moved away… we both moved away as soon as we could from this place. But I miss you, Bill. So I… What am I doing here? I shouldn’t be here, should I? Oh God! I’m sorry Bill. I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!” His accent had completely vanished, and now Audra could have sworn that she’d heard that voice before.

And as soon as he was there, he was gone. There was just an empty stage, residing in a changed hotel.

Bill cocked his head and regarded his drink. “Richie?” He said out loud.

“Bill… I don’t know what’s happening, but… I really think we should leave.” Audra said, wide eyes darting around in her head.

“Audra…” Bill said, reaching over and patting Audra’s hand on his knee without looking at her. “Stay here, ok. I’ve gotta… I’ve gotta...” He trailed off, and stood up and walked away as if in a daze. Audra clutched her hands to her chest as if praying. She squeezed her eyes closed tight. She had an awful, awful feeling about all this.

Richie jolted awake, disturbing Eddie.

He had just had the strangest dream. He was performing live… but the crowd was dismal, and the only person he remembered there in front of him was Bill. And he was bombing. And Bill didn’t smile once. The details were fuzzy… but he knew Bill didn’t find it funny. Didn’t find him funny. Beep beep Richie. He didn’t say it, but Richie could tell by his face that he meant it. He swallowed and his mouth and throat were dry. He wanted… no. He _**needed**_ a drink.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie mumbled, and Richie shook his head, emptying what he could remember of the dream from his mind.

“Nothing.” Richie said, and he got up and stretched. “I think I’m gonna have a shower… clear my head.”

Richie hurried into the bathroom, discarding his boxers as he went and placing his glasses onto the jutting windowsill under the tiny frosted glass window. He stumbled into the shower and turned it on. Then he stood there for a few minutes in the cold spray. Something felt off. The water smelled funny. Familiar. It smelled good, but not right. He could barely see his hands in front of his face without his glasses, but it looked darker than water should. He caught some droplets on his fingers and touched them to his lips… it was beer.

He grabbed the handle and turned off the water determinedly. Then he turned it back on… it was water again. He was rather thankful for this as he towelled himself off. It would’ve been rather embarrassing to have to go around all sticky and stinking of beer.

When Richie found his way out of the bathroom Eddie was already dressed. He sniffed the air. “You smell like a brewery.” He commented.

Richie frowned. He thought he had done a decent enough job of washing the smell off. “I had a little accident with the plumbing… I’m sorry. I really need to go back to Mike’s.”

“Wait… Richie! Tell me what happened!” Eddie asked, following Richie as he got dressed and went out into the hall.

And then Richie walked right into Bill and Bill grabbed him by the shoulders.

“What the hell was that?” Bill asked.

“Let go of him, Bill!” Eddie said nervously, and Bill ignored him.

Bill shook Richie once. “What the hell was that?” He asked again.

“What are you talking about… Big Bill?” Richie asked, with a weak smile and exhaustion in his voice.

“The weird-ass comedy club routine down in the lounge… was it you?”

Eddie glanced back and forth between Bill and Richie in surprise.

“That’s funny… I was just dreaming that I was doing a gig. It wasn’t going well at all.” Richie said, lifelessly.

Bill stared at Richie, the kind of stare that bored into your very soul. “You stink.” He said.

“I might’ve given him a shook can.” Eddie said with a shrug. “It sprayed him in the face, and it doesn’t wash off that easy.”

Bill raised an eyebrow at Eddie. “You… never mind.” He shook his head.

“Richie… there’s something really off about you. Ever since we killed IT. The fucking clown was back, Richie. Just now at the bar. But it sounded like you, at least towards the end of its act. And in other ways it seemed like you.”

“Clown?” Richie asked. “What do you mean, clown?”

“I mean big silver suit, big orange buttons, the same old clown! I didn’t recognise his face but…”

Richie started gasping for breath. He clawed at his collar like it would choke him and bent over double. “Oh… no! Oh God no!” He exclaimed in between fast and ragged breaths.

Eddie moved like a flash to Richie’s side, but too late, as the sprinklers went off, spraying what smelled like scotch all over them. A potted plant nearby sprouted a handful of inhalers identical to the one Eddie used to carry. And the stained olive green carpet between their feet grew a new coat of fuzzy orange mohair, which immediately grew sodden in the torrent of scotch.

Eddie pushed Bill aside and took Richie’s arms, gently. “It’s ok. Calm down, it’ll be ok.” He attempted to soothe, but it was almost like Richie couldn’t even hear him.

So Eddie took a deep breath, and slapped Richie hard across the face. The sprinklers stopped, and they stood there in a puddle of scotch and orange mohair, just staring at each other.

“Are you alright?” Eddie asked Richie. “I’m sorry I slapped you, but I needed to snap you out of it and I just thought-“

Richie stepped forwards and pulled Eddie into his arms, clinging to him tightly. “No. No, I needed that. This is a fucking nightmare, Eddie. This is just-”

Neither of them paid any attention to Bill, also soaked in scotch and staring open mouthed at the two of them. “Wh-wh-wh-wh… Wh-what the f-f-fuck was that?” He eventually stammered out. “Y-y-y-you’re-

Eddie quickly pulled away from Richie and they turned to look at Bill.

“You’re IT, R-richie?” Bill finally asked. “H-how the h-hell does that even-“ He trailed off mid-sentence, as if he had decided the answer to his first question was more important than the second one he hadn't yet formed.

Richie turned a bit green. He was beginning to look truly awful, just exhausted and frankly ill. Eddie was worried and it showed clearly on his face.

“Yeah. I guess I am now.” Richie said, but it didn’t sound like Richie saying it, nor one of his voices either. He just sounded kind of empty.

Then Bill turned to Eddie. “You l-lied to me!”

This time it was Eddie’s turn to go pale. “I would never lie to you Bill. Not normally. I was afraid you were going to kill him if you found out. But Bill, he’s still Richie!”

“You should have t-t-told me anyway!” Bill said, and there was venom in his voice. “Can’t you see what a f-fu-fucking monster he’s become? You should have told us, all of us so we can deal with this.”

“Deal with him how?” Eddie asked, voice tight and scared and angry all at once.

“Whatever way we decide!” Bill growled, stepping forwards and grabbing Eddie by the shirt. “Don’t you see? This isn’t about just him or you! This is about all of us! All of us have been hurt by that thing, and now he has the power to hurt all of us all over again!”

“That thing? You’re talking about Richie, Bill! Or did you forget?” Eddie said.

“I’m talking about IT!” Bill shook Eddie quite hard as he said it, and Richie stepped forwards. “Let go of him.”

Bill turned on Richie, his hand still twisted in Eddie’s shirt. “What are you gonna do? Are you gonna turn into G-g-georgie? Wh-wh-what’re you g-gonna be this time, huh?”

Richie socked Bill in the gut and then slammed him hard against the wall. “Just me, Bill. I’m gonna be Richie Fucking Tozier. Now don’t touch him again.”

Bill coughed and wheezed and leant his weight against the wall, unable to get a word out.

“You really didn’t need to do that, Richie.” Eddie said softly. “I’m fine. And I’m sure Bill wasn’t really going to hurt me.”

“Then he shouldn’t have put his fucking hands on you. You did nothing wrong. If he wanted to hurt someone then it should have been me.”

“You did nothing wrong either!” Eddie insisted.

“There’s something really weird going on with you two lately.” Bill choked out, still struggling for breath but having apparently calmed down somewhat.

Eddie turned to face Bill slowly and awkwardly. But he completely ignored what Bill had said. “So what are you going to do?” Eddie asked, rather coldly.

“I’m going to tell the others.” Bill said. “I’m going to tell the others. And then we’ll meet up and we’ll talk… and eventually we’ll come to a decision. You guys can come too… but I’m not letting either of you get a say in the end result.”

“Wait, why don’t I get a say?” Eddie asked. He supposed he understood why Richie didn’t get one, but what about him?

“Because we obviously all need to be impartial, dumbass. And I don’t trust you to do that. Not anymore.” Bill said.

Eddie looked towards Richie and Richie shrugged and then nodded.

“Alright.” Eddie said.

“I’ll leave it to you then to stop them all from leaving.” Richie said to Bill. “And I’ve already told Mike.”

“Leave it to Mike to decide what we should and shouldn’t know. Shouldn’t be surprised he kept it secret.” Bill huffed.

“Get off his back.” Richie said. “He was doing it for me.”

“You keep on telling yourself that.” Bill said, turning away towards the stairs. “I’ve got a few phone calls to make.” He excused himself and stormed off, his shoes squelching across the carpet.

“You know this water into wine business wouldn’t be half bad if I could just stop drenching myself with the stuff.” Richie joked once Bill was out of sight.

Eddie rested his head on Richie’s shoulder, his own hair already stiffening with drying scotch. “You really want a drink so bad, huh?” He said sympathetically.

“Yeah.” Richie said. “It’s torture.”

“Gee, I hope they clean the carpets in this place… and regularly. Or this place is going to end up stinking and infested with ants.” Eddie added. “And I’ve heard you can get all sorts of nasty stuff from ants.”

Richie smiled and squeezed Eddie gently as he rambled on about the many horrible ailments he’d heard you could catch from ants.

‘I love you.’ Richie thought. But he didn’t dare to say the words aloud this time, because at this moment it felt too final.


	5. Day Five, Another Meeting of the Loser's Club is Called to Order

**Part One: A New Life and Death for Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier**

**Chapter 5 – Day Five, Another Meeting of the Loser's Club is Called to Order**

**_The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,  
For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back again:  
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,  
And set his table ready to dine upon the fly.  
Then he came out his door again, and merrily did sing,  
_ ** **_"Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing:_  
 _Your robes are green and purple; there's a crest upon your head;_  
 _Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead."_  
**

**_From The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt_ **

They all met up in the library. Mike had been able to secure them a space where they would be able to talk undisturbed.

It was Mike, Beverly, Ben, Bill, Eddie and Richie around one large-ish formica library table.

“Bill said that there was a reason we needed to come today. He said that we weren’t done yet. But he wouldn’t explain what he meant.” Bev said anxiously. She was sitting next to Ben, and Richie was certain if he checked that he would find their hands were entwined under the table.

“I thought it was best that he tell you why we’re here himself.” Bill said through his teeth.

Richie tried his best to smile at Bill in thanks, but his mouth only twitched weakly at the corners.

“Uh, yeah. I’m the one who called this meeting… everyone.” Richie said, and swallowed uncomfortably. “Because Bill is right. We’re not done. We may’ve killed IT but there is still something left. There is still an element of IT in Derry, one that is active and unpredictable and has potential to be dangerous.”

Bev gasped, and her hands clenched tightly. “What, Richie? What is it?”

“Me.” Richie said dully.

Ben and Bev stared at him.

“He’s lost it.” Ben said.

“How much have you been drinking lately?” Bev asked.

“He’s telling the truth.” Bill said. “I saw it. I saw him do things only IT could do.”

“Same here.” Mike said.

They all turned to Eddie, now the only hold out. Eddie turned to Richie and smiled, almost dreamily. Then he held up his arm, the one that IT had bitten off. “Well how did you guys think I got my arm back? Heck, how do you guys think I’m walking and talking and breathing right this very moment? Richie saved my life.”

Richie shook his head. “I didn’t save you. I fixed you up but I didn’t save you.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Same difference. Stop being so stubborn.”

“Same difference? You can’t even leave Derry without becoming a walking corpse!”

“Well I find it rather better than being an actual corpse thank you very much! Why are you trying to sabotage yourself right now? Just take the fucking credit for a good deed dumbass!”

“Holy fuck! Eddie? You’re... really dead?” Ben was the first one to talk after a moment of stunned silence.

“Yep!” Eddie said rather chipperly, almost as if he was proud of the fact. “One-hundred percent certified zombie over here.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Bev asked.

“Sure it did.” Eddie said. “But heck, I figured that if I could shrug off death… then I could shrug off anything! I realised that this thing I’d spent my whole life being terrified of is now entirely meaningless. It’s almost freeing… you know?”

“Oh my God… This is… oh my God.” Bev said.

“Could you bring Stan back too?” Ben asked Richie.

“I don’t think so.” Richie said. “He didn’t die in Derry.”

‘ ** _No one ever really dies in Derry._** ’

“And what about the other people, then, who’ve died in Derry? What about Georgie?” Bill asked.

Richie pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and shook his head. “Jesus, Bill. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“What about telling me the truth?” Bill asked. “You could start with that.”

“The truth?” Richie asked. “The truth is that you really do not want me trying to bring Georgie back from the dead right now.”

“I don’t want that?” Bill asked angrily.

“Reviving Audra wasn’t easy.” Richie said. “But bringing back Eddie… that was hard. And he was just dead. Dead in Derry, dead with a body that was still fucking warm. He wasn’t… digested… yet.”

Richie could feel five sets of horrified eyes on him, but he kept talking. Because he needed to. Because he needed Bill Denbrough to get it through his thick skull to let the subject go.

“You don’t want to see what I bring up when I reach for Georgie, Bill.” Richie warned.

Richie’s hands were shaking now. He was sweating and his mouth was dry as a bone. He needed a drink. He needed it bad. He would fucking kill for it.

He could feel Eddie shudder and Bill’s fists clench. He could hear Bev breathe in sharply.

“And if I start bringing them all up I’m gonna get hungry quick. But believe me when I say that shouldn’t scare you half as much as exactly what it is I’m gonna end up bringing up if I do.”

‘ ** _And the big bad wolf ate up all the little pigs, to fill the endless void in its stomach._** ’ Ben thought to himself.

“Let’s all calm down a little.” Ben said. Beverly squeezed his hand a little tighter, and he knew he had her support. “Bill, back off a little. And Richie, stop intentionally trying to scare us. I know you must be going through some shit, but you need to back off a little too.”

“ ** _Going through some shit_**?” Richie asked, incredulously. “You have absolutely no idea, Ben, about the shit I’m going through.”

“I know you can’t control what you do right now, Richie. But you can control what you say.” Eddie chastised softly.

“Like I wasn’t feeling like crap enough already?” Richie responded quietly and bitterly. At this point he knew he was saying it just to lash out at everyone. But so what? Didn’t they at least owe him that? He thought.

“You are a fucking monster.” Bill said under his breath, as if he himself couldn’t believe it. “You really are a fucking monster.”

And Eddie didn’t say anything. Eddie who had been standing up and defending him all this time. Who had lied for him, covered for him, cared for him. He just kept silent and kept his head down.

Richie felt a pang of fear seize through him. Eddie’s silence said it all.

“Yeah.” He said. “You’re right, Bill. I really am a fucking monster.”

And still Eddie said nothing.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

In the silence that followed Mike cleared his throat.

“Richie actually came to me for help yesterday.” He said.

‘3 am’ Richie thought. ‘Not really yesterday… not that it mattered. Not that it mattered in the slightest.’

“He wanted me to look into any information or ideas I might have on how Pennywise controlled IT’s powers. He’s been struggling with that since he got them. He’s not in full control.”

Bill glared accusingly at Richie across the table.

“I think it’s conceivable to guess that lack of control has the potential to include a certain amount of emotional and irrational behaviour. Especially considering that the whole ordeal has likely put him under a frankly inconceivable amount of stress. And I mean, who knows what this is all actually doing to his mind?”

Richie gave Mike a grateful look. He really hadn’t expected to receive any defence from him. “I keep dousing myself in booze every time I want a drink, if I’m anywhere near a pipe system.” He admitted with a small and nervous laugh. “And I know I can’t drink any of the stuff either. Because... you know... what would happen then? That’s just one example of the shit that’s driving me loopy.”

“Yeah. I know. You doused me too you asshole!” Eddie spoke up.

Bill opened his mouth.

“Don’t you start, Bill. Don’t you even start!” Eddie practically screeched. Richie was reminded in a weird sort of way of Eddie’s mom, but he would sooner gut himself with a pencil sharpener then bring voice to that idea.

“Look, Richie. I… care about you. And I’m willing to help you work through this nightmare you’re going through. But you’re sure as fuck not going to turn around and pretend like I’m not giving you a break! Like I’m not trying my hardest to understand what you’re going through. And like I’m not doing my damnedest to help. For fuck’s sake! You’re not the only one struggling here. I may seem like I’m doing great but I’m not. You really think I’m just cool with being dead? And not just that… my whole life’s fallen apart, Richie. But I’ve been looking on the bright side, because I keep telling myself, Richie has it worse.”

Richie nodded. “Ok, Eds.” He said. “I’m sorry.”

“You guys done with your little lovers spat?” Bill asked dryly.

“Yeah, Bill. We are. Done with our **_lovers_** spat, that is.” Eddie said.

Richie’s eyes widened in surprise, the same as everyone else who was sitting at that table. Did Eddie just confess to…?

“I just figured I may as well slip it in there along with everything else.” Eddie leaned over and whispered into Richie’s ear. “Follow me being dead and you being IT up with us being together and that way I’m pretty sure I can guarantee the news of... well, that... will not end up the focus of the evening.”

“That's genius.” Richie whispered.

Eddie cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yeah... well... just don't make me regret this. Look, we're sort of in this pile of shit, together. And we sort of have to... be there for each other. Like... trust each other and not bite each other's heads off just because it gets a little hard."

"Yeah, well, as long as you don't bite my head off next time it gets a little hard." Richie said with a grin.

Eddie cocked his head. "Huh? I've... Oh come on! I was being serious!" He hissed.

"So was I." Richie said. "Heads are a no teeth zone. For both of us."

"Oh, shut up, Richie!" Eddie complained, turning a little pink in the cheeks and being just loud enough to turn heads.

Then Eddie pretended to be very interested in the formica surface of the table, and Richie was left to make awkward eye contact with the rest of the losers.

“So you can’t control… **_your_**... power?” Bev asked. She hesitated to say your. Like she didn’t want to acknowledge that it was indeed belonging to Richie. Like she almost wished that it still belonged to Pennywise. That... was a feeling that Richie understood.

“No.” Richie said, shaking his head solemnly. “I can’t.”

“Actually I’ve been wondering about that.” Mike said. “You haven’t been able to stop or prevent yourself from exercising the power… but have you tried doing the opposite and using it intentionally? Have you tried channelling it into a specific purpose… beyond bringing Eddie back from the dead?”

“He did help Audra.” Bill admitted. “She was catatonic after seeing IT, and he intended to fix her, and then he did actually fix her.”

“Then maybe we’ve been looking at it all wrong.” Mike said. “Maybe rather than trying to tamp it all down, you should be venting it out before it explodes.”

“Vent it out?” Richie said. “That’s got to be the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Mike took a pen from his front shirt pocket and placed it neatly on the table. Then he grabbed his tiny lined notepad and tore out three pages, which he arranged in a triangle around the pen.

Richie watched him in complete and total bewilderment.

“We’re going to play a game now, Richie.” Mike said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re not kids anymore.” Richie complained.

“Just go with it.” Eddie said. “Please?”

“Ok.” Richie immediately gave in. If Eddie wanted him to play a game then he was going to play a game, no matter how dumb of an idea he thought it was.

“This game is quite simple, really. You have to number these pieces of paper one, two, three without ever touching the pen. If you win, I’ll buy you dinner. If you lose… I don't buy you dinner.”

“How am I supposed to write on them without a pen?” Richie asked.

“Firstly I never said you couldn’t use a pen. I said you couldn’t touch the pen. And if you think about it, IT wrote us plenty of messages without using a pen. So there’s dozens of options. Just think about it, and do it any way you like.”

“Ok.” Richie said quietly. So Mike was asking him to use his powers intentionally. He could do that… probably.

“You ready?”

Richie thought about how he could do it. “Yeah.” He said.

“And go.” Mike said, tilting his watch, perhaps to time.

Richie closed his eyes. He could feel everyone at this table. He could feel the table itself. The papers and the pen were, however less distinct. They had much less presence for him to grasp onto. So he tried opening his eyes.

He tried to stare the papers and pen down, like they were holding something of his hostage. They sat stubborn and still against the formica.

Richie looked up at his friends. He felt embarrassed and uncomfortable. He felt like a liar. He had told them that he was IT. But if he was IT… why couldn’t he even move some silly little pieces of paper and a pen. He saw Bev and Ben’s expressions. Bev and Ben who hadn’t yet seen him do anything, who had somehow taken him at his word that he was no longer simply Richie Tozier. He knew they were thinking that maybe they were right before. Maybe he’d finally lost it. Maybe they’d all lost it.

He clutched his head in his hands and held it against the table. “I… can’t do it. Alright? I can’t do it! Just stop…” ( ** _looking at me like that._** ) He broke of mid-sentence when he heard a strange sound. A sizzling sound. He lifted his head to see the numbers burning themselves into the paper. He broke out into a stunned smile. “Hey, I did it!”

The first paper went out, the number one was now burned neatly into it. Then paper number two went out, and it was the same. (If a little wonky looking.) But the number three kept sizzling and sizzling and burned its way right through onto the surface of the table. Bev took off her sweater and moved to stifle the flames.

“Don’t touch it!” Richie exclaimed on instinct, his brow sweating profusely, until it ran down into his eyes. “Step back.” He warned.

They all stepped back as the table crackled, bubbled and sizzled, until the flames died into nothing, choked from existence under a heavy veil of their own smoke.

And there was the number three burned right into the table. All of the papers had been burned to ash. The pen was now nothing but a sad, limp creature laying listlessly on its side. Arching from the number three, were thousands upon thousands of vein-like patterns. They were still gently smouldering, almost pulsing with life.

“I told you that this was a bad idea.” Richie said, barely able to hear his own words over the desperate hammering of his own heart.

“I think it was a great idea.” Mike said. “Were you thinking of using fire at all, or was that unconscious?”

“Unconscious.” Richie said, and then. “But I could have burned the library down!”

“Well why would you want to burn the library down Richie?” Mike asked.

“I don’t!”

“Then I sincerely doubt you would have done it.”

“Well what do you think I had against that poor table, then?” Richie asked.

Mike just shook his head good-naturedly. “I monitor all the deaths and disappearances in Derry, Richie. And I know you haven’t hurt anyone, intentional or otherwise. I think, like many good people, that you have something inside you. Something deep down that doesn’t want to see others suffer, something more than empathy. Responsibility, I suppose.”

The surface of the table slowly cooled. Richie went up to it and ran his fingers lightly over its warped and twisted surface.

“It’s almost beautiful.” Bev said, leaning over it. “Almost like artwork, don’t you think?” Her red hair dangled down over its surface, hanging back and forth in a way that was almost dizzying. Like a rope swinging back and forth over a yawning chasm.

I’m no artist, Richie opened his mouth to say.

“It’s horrible.” Bill said. “It’s nothing but death and pain and… emptiness. How could you think that’s beautiful?”

Bev turned to Bill. There was hurt in her eyes. And Richie could tell that a part of her still loved him. Big Bill.

“It’s just a fucking burned table.” Richie said, before she had a chance to say anything. “It’s a fucking table and it means nothing.”

The remaining members of the Losers Club trickled from the library. They had not come to any decision yet, except for that they would not yet leave Derry. They all agreed that they needed to keep an eye on Richie. Eddie and Mike had been the only ones to stick around in the library after the meeting, however. Richie was surprised to find just how determined Mike really was to help him.

“I still owe you dinner, on me.” Mike said warmly.

“Thanks, Mike.” Richie said. “But it’s no use to go wasting your money like that, and that dinner would be wasted on me.”

Mike frowned.

“He hasn't been eating... lately.” Eddie explained.

Mike sighed heavily through his nose. “So just because you don’t **_need_** to eat, you’ve chosen not to? Dear God, Richie, when was the last time you ate?”

“Lunch, I think. The day after the big fight. Why?”

“Haven’t you considered that choosing to do human things might keep you more human?” Mike chastised.

“I guess I didn’t really think about it.” Richie said.

“Well start.” Mike said. “I’m sorry, but not thinking about things is a luxury you can no longer afford.”

Richie swallowed. He wondered if he could possibly enjoy his dinner, if the restaurant kept it nice and rare.


	6. Day Six, IT Feeds

**Part One: A New Life and Death for Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier**

**Chapter 6 – Day Six, IT Feeds**

**_Alas, alas! How very soon this silly little fly,  
Hearing his wily flattering words, came slowly flitting by.  
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,  
Thinking only of her crested head - POOR FOOLISH THING! At last,  
Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast._ **

**_From The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt_ **

Richie’s mind was buzzing with possibilities. Humming with potential. Mike had opened that door. It was the idea that he could control the power by using the power. Revolutionary! How had he not thought of it before?

Of course he knew why. He had been afraid. But more and more he was beginning to realise that he should have nothing to be afraid of. He was both IT and a man, he could dine at both tables, and partake of the best of both worlds.

Dine at both tables? Richie caught himself thinking it. What was he thinking? Was he seriously considering satiating his hunger with pain and misery and fear and death? Becoming that creature? The very same one he had despised? The same one that had brought him pain, misery, fear and death in spades? The very same one that had taken Stan’s life… and Eddie’s? And that of Bill’s young brother, Georgie?

No, no, no, Richie Tozier. You make people laugh, you make people laugh, you make people laugh! You don’t make them cry! You don’t make them mourn and weep and lament their losses. You give and don’t take. You give and you give and you give and you give until you’re all used up inside. Empty. Thirsty. Hungry. Hollow.

Richie allowed a smile to pull at his features, tugging blandly and spasmodically at his cheeks. That was better. He must smile. No one likes a sad clown.

He needed a drink.

“Richie?”

Eddie’s voice cut through the fluttering miasma of his mind, like a pure ray of sunlight poking through dark clouds. Richie shook his head to clear what remained and turned to Eddie with a smile. A genuine smile.

“Yes, Eddie my love?”

“Are you alright? You’ve seemed off since dinner.”

“Sorry.” Richie said. He felt like he’d said that word a thousand times since he’d changed, but this time he didn’t hate it. He meant it. “I’ve just been thinking. But I think I’m going to give thinking a break for a while. I’ve tried it and I’ve found that I don’t much care for it at all.”

Eddie laughed at that. God, Richie had missed that laugh of his. But he also saw the hint of worry strain across Eddie’s brow.

“Don’t push yourself Richie.” Eddie said. “I don’t care what anybody says, I know you’re already trying your best. No need to try any harder. We’ve got time.”

“We’ve got time like a two-bob watch.” Richie said, softly.

Eddie gave him a hard look, which quickly softened and fell apart. “Yeah. I know.” He linked his arm through Richie’s and leaned against his shoulder. “That’s why it matters that we don’t go wasting it, dumbass.”

“I love you.” Richie said, because it seemed like the right time to say such things.

Eddie’s lips parted and he sucked in a breath. He made a noise, something that could have been a choke or a laugh. Though it honestly sounded closer to a choke. Then he smiled a weary kind of smile. “Don’t go getting soft on me, man.” He said. Although saying it with their arms linked and his head close to resting on Richie’s shoulder, felt about as warm and soft as they come.

“Oh, I’m never soft when it comes to you. Believe me.” Richie teased.

Eddie turned to Richie, made an exaggerated face of mock disgust and then laughed almost drunkenly.

They walked through the town square at night, passed by all the old shops (many now replaced or out of business), and eventually made their way down to their hotel. Tonight it seemed almost bigger, almost grander under the moonlight. It was a full moon tonight, impossibly big and round against the dark sky.

When Richie went to his room, he couldn’t get the key to turn in the lock. So he went back to the lobby. He was surprised to see Eddie there as well. He went to the counter and explained that his key didn’t work. The desk clerk, the same one he had made drop the radio, he was sure of it, shook his head and rolled his eyes. “That’s because you’ve got the wrong room.” He said.

“Of course I haven’t!” Richie insisted. “I’ve had this room since I’ve arrived. I haven’t changed it.”

“With all due respect sirs.” The clerk said. “You’ve always had a suite here.”

“Wh- both of us?” Eddie asked, sounding flabbergasted.

“I believe so… I did rather think it a bit strange.” The clerk admitted.

“Always?” Richie asked. “We’ve _**always**_ had a suite here?”

“Well it’s been longer than I’ve worked here, sir. I think that you may actually **_own_** the room, in fact.”

Richie took out his room key and looked at the tag. It actually did have a different room number on it then he remembered. Eddie did the same, and his key looked identical.

“T-thank you.” Eddie stammered, as the two wandered away from the counter, feeling rather stunned by the news.

“Bloody night shift.” The clerk said to himself as he put about setting up his small radio for the night. “They’re drunks the lot of them, even the stupid rich ones.”

Richie and Eddie eventually found their way to the suite with the number matching the one written on the keys.

“Whoa… Was there ever a room that looked like **_this_** in the hotel?” Richie asked. He doubted that greatly. The suite was simply too modern to fit with an older and unfashionable hotel like this one. The room was sleek and stark. White, grey and black with red furniture. It even had a television set, a 22 inch Blaupunkt.

“No way.” Eddie said. “There’s just no way.”

“You don’t like it?” Richie said awkwardly. It was not as if he’d exactly picked the place out.

“Are you kidding? This is way too much!” Eddie said. “I’ll feel like I’m Lex Luthor, staying in this sort of place.”

Richie snorted through his nose. “But Lex Luthor wouldn’t be this cute, now would he?”

Eddie slowly raised an eyebrow. “Ew.” He said.

“What? What’s ‘ew’ about that?” Richie asked.

“Just something about the way you said that… makes me feel like some fragile young actress who is about to be cast in a rather suspicious movie.” Eddie said while screwing up his nose.

Richie gasped. “Eddie Spaghetti! Are you telling me you’ve been exposed to **_pornographic movies_**?” He said in his ‘mother’ voice.”

“Shut up!” Eddie laughed, now growing flushed in the cheeks.

“Why my precious, innocent little flower!” Richie continued, and Eddie giggled until he clutched his sides. Richie smiled contentedly. He’d missed this, more than anything.

It was a little awkward when they found the bed. Because there was only one bed. Only one bed.

“I can sleep on the couch.” Richie immediately offered. But Eddie turned to him with a bemused smile.

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” Richie breathed.

“I don’t.” Eddie said. And then he kissed him. He kissed him long and deep and tender.

Everything was quiet and everything was dark except for the sparkle and rush of a nearby stream. Richie could see everything at once, as if he was looking through the compound eyes of a fly. He could see a homeless man sleeping across a park bench. And somehow he knew exactly what this man was afraid of. He knew what had turned him to the drink, lost him his job and his wife and finally his home.

Richie turned and wandered up the path towards the man, holding out his tiny hands and shaking the man awake.

“Daddy?” He asked, his voice so high and thin that it genuinely sounded like somebody else’s.

The man on the bench snorted awake, puffing out clouds of air that stunk like stale beer as his eyes fluttered open.

Richie needed a drink, and while that smell should make his stomach turn it only made him thirstier, _**hungrier**_.

“Sally-May?” The man asked blearily. “Sally-May, is that you?”

Richie laughed a tiny laugh. **_Laugh, Laugh, Laugh._** Then his face fell quickly. “I’m cold, Daddy. I’m so cold and I’m so scared. And that monster won’t stop chasing me.”

“The monster?” The man said, the folds of his face tightening in alarm.

“I know you saw it Daddy, the day it came and took me away. I know that you saw the monster.”

‘Daddy’ shook his head, his eyes wild. “No! That wasn’t real! That wasn’t real!”

“Of course it was real, Daddy.” Richie said. “What else could you be drinking so hard to forget. Say, share some with me please, Daddy? I want to forget too. I want to forget the monster too.”

Tears dribbled from the corners of the man’s eyes and he lowered his head. “Anything else. I’ll do anything else. But I won’t give you drink. You’re so young… you’ll forget on your own… you don’t need it… I promise.”

“Those eyes still haunt **_your_** nightmares… don’t they? I’m **_so_** frightened! Make the pain go away, Daddy!” Richie cried out, feeling his skin peel back and warm blood blossom across his chest. It tickled. He wanted to laugh, laugh, laugh at the feeling.

“No! No! No! Sally-May, you’ll be ok!” ‘Daddy’ cried out fearfully. “You can have anything you want! I’ll do anything it takes to make the pain go away! Anything!” He clutched at Richie’s arms as if for dear life. “Daddy?” Richie said, then grinned. “I want a drink.”

Then he sunk his long, sharp teeth through the man’s throat, and drank. He drank, he slurped, he crunched, and he wasn’t finished until what had once been ‘Daddy’ was splattered across the sidewalk. He let out a shuddering breath, wracked with a near orgasmic high. This was no mere drink. As a big time comedian, he’d experienced every type of burn you could imagine but this was stronger. He was floating, he was floating, he was floating. And ‘Daddy’ would float too.

He giggled uncontrollably, it burst out of him in wracking waves and crests. He laughed and he laughed and he laughed and he laughed until-

Richie opened his eyes in a panic. What had he done? He knew he’d fucked up. He’d fucked up big time. Richie watched Eddie carefully as he lay there. The love of his life sleeping peacefully beside him. And he knew he’d fucked things up for Eddie too. Oh God! What had he done?

He had eaten for the first time. And he finally understood what the others could not, what Bill and Bev and Ben and Mike and even Eddie could never understand. He was still buzzing from the high even as he panicked silently next to Eddie’s still and sleeping form. It would not leave him soon. And he knew even as he panicked that he would do it again, and he would do it again, and that he would not be able to stop himself until his time was done.

And that thought hit him so hard and so horribly and so absolutely that he cried, tears pouring silently down his cheeks. Bill was right, he was a monster. With his rational mind he pitied the man whose life he took that night, but what difference did that make when he’d already taken it. And what difference would that make when he knew he would be unable to stop himself from repeating those mistakes over and over and over. The tears only poured harder. His body shook.

“Richie?” Eddie stirred awake. “Are you crying?” He mumbled, still half asleep. “Why are you crying?”

Richie didn’t answer… because how could he tell him that?

“What happened?” Eddie asked, but Richie still didn’t answer, and couldn’t even look at him. He stared out blankly into the distance, replaying the whole thing in his mind. The murder that had just taken place. That he had just carried out.

“Richie?” Eddie asked… before his eyes widened and his head bolted upwards off the pillow. “No. You didn’t.”

Richie just cried harder.

“You couldn’t! Please talk to me for God’s sakes! Why? How? Tell me what’s going on!”

“I just thought I was dreaming… one of those dreams where you’re not in control of yourself… right up until it ended.” Richie sobbed. “I was so hungry… Eddie. I **_needed_** …” He trailed off.

Eddie’s expression was haunted, his face a pale monument to fear. “I think I have to get out of here.” He whispered. Richie didn’t watch him go, but he heard the door click closed behind him.

_**-End of Part One.-** _


	7. Eddie

**Part Two: We All Sink Down Here, And You'll Sink Too**

**Chapter 1 – Eddie**

When Richie woke up the next morning, Eddie was still gone. He lay there in bed looking up at the ceiling, not wanting to move. Not wanting to go and get Eddie back. Because he truly loved Eddie… he always had… and he wanted to let him make his own choices. Besides, as he reminded himself several times while thinking it over, he didn’t really deserve Eddie right now. Not after what he did.

Eddie didn’t come back for almost a week.

Once that week was up, he just slipped back into the room in the middle of the night and got into bed without a word, as if he’d never left. Richie buried his face into Eddie’s back and Eddie let him without complaint.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” Eddie whispered. “Get some sleep. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Richie whispered back. “Why are you sorry? I’m sorry. I’m the one who should be…”

Eddie moved around to face Richie, and slipped a hand up to rest on his cheek. “I left you all alone. I know you can’t control it, and yet I left you all alone.”

“After what I did… I deserved to be alone.” Richie said.

Eddie bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to Richie’s lips.

“Get some sleep, dumbass.” He whispered.

And Richie did.

When he woke up the next morning, Eddie was still there beside him. Which was good because Richie had not been entirely sure that he hadn’t just dreamed the whole thing. His dreams were getting a lot more vivid lately.

He nudged Eddie under the covers with his foot. “Hey… psst… Eds.”

And Eddie sprung up almost comically, sitting up rigidly, with his hair sticking every which way.

Richie struggled hard not to smile warmly at the sight.

“You said we’d talk.” Richie said.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “Since when have you ever been this keen to have a serious talk?”

“Since… since I don’t want you to leave me… but I’m scared to have you stay.” Richie said. “I’m a real, fucking monster. I ate a human being, Eddie.” He forgot his earlier good spirits as his eyes welled with tears. “I killed him. And I fucking ate him!”

Eddie gathered Richie in his arms and held him gently, rocking him, stroking a hand across his back. He did it silently.

“I should tell Mike what happened.” Richie said.

“Don’t.” Eddie begged softly into his ear.

“He’s going to figure it out whether I tell him or not.” Richie said. “At least this way I won’t be a liar as well as…“

“Then this time you’re not telling him without me there.” Eddie said.

“Ok.” Richie said.

Eddie didn’t let go, and Richie relaxed into his hold.

“Oh, and just Mike. Don’t tell any of the others.” Eddie added.

Richie shuddered at the thought of Bill hearing about it. “Deal.”

“Hey Richie. I was thinking.”

“Yeah, Eds?”

“That night… were you aware that it was a full moon? Because it seems that if you’re going by werewolf rules…”

Richie stiffened. “Fuck! You’re brilliant!”

“I mean… it’s not that much really.”

“It’s something!” Richie said. “At least it’s fucking something! Before I had absolutely nothing!”

“It doesn’t mean we’ll be able to do something about it.” Eddie said.

“I have an idea.” Richie said.

“Already?” Eddie asked.

“Tranquilizers!” Richie exclaimed. And he sounded really thrilled about it too.

“Uhh… what?” Eddie asked, sounding confused and concerned.

“Tranquilizers!” Richie repeated. “First I test them out on myself on any day before the full moon. Dose myself nice and heavy and make sure to see that they don’t set off my powers… and then once I know they’re safe… I can simply drug myself up real good each full moon from now ‘til the end of time! This’ll be easy!”

“You sound way too happy about taking dangerous, hardcore drugs!” Eddie chastised.

“What are you, my mom?” Richie teased.

“No…” Eddie said, a little flushed. “I’m your… I don’t know… I’m…” Eddie growled in frustration. “I’m someone who gets to tell you not to fucking kill yourself by being stupid. And you have to listen to me. Because I’m your-”

“Eddie!” Richie exclaims with exaggerated excitement. “Is this some sort of… love confession?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes angrily. “Of course it’s not, jerk-wad!”

“Ahhhh! I can feel the looooove!” Richie teased, leaning his weight heavily against Eddie.

They both collapsed over under Richie’s weight, with Eddie pinned awkwardly under him.

“Whoops.” Richie said, after realizing the position he’d put them in. “Eduardo, my good feee-llow, aye did not meeeean to-“ He started, then he stopped, because Eddie was fixing him with a deeply unimpressed look.

“What?” He asked.

“I missed you… you arsehole.” Eddie whispered.

“It’s only been a week.” Richie said. “And you were the one who left.”

Eddie snorted. “No… not you loser. I missed Pancho Vanilla.”

Richie raised an eyebrow. “Well this certainly is a confusing turn of events! Cheating on me with my own voices, behind my back? Why Kaspbrack, I’m actually more impressed than anything else!”

Eddie shook with laughter. “Dumbass. I haven’t heard any of your voices since the big fight. And I’ve heard you do them through whooping cough. During bouts of actual whooping cough, while you were having an actual coughing fit. You sprayed me with your germy phlegm you twat!”

“You love my germy juices.” Richie teased.

Eddie turned his head away and retched comically. “Don’t you ever… use the word juices... again.” Eddie complained. “You’re going to make me sick!”

“You know that just makes me want to say it more.” Richie teased, then opened his mouth as if to say it.

Eddie clamped a hand around Richie’s mouth to shut him up. “I was worried about you.” He said more seriously.

Richie considered licking Eddie’s hand just to gross him out and piss him off… but he didn’t. Something in Eddie’s eyes distracted him, and Eddie soon removed his hand of his own accord.

Before Richie could think of anything to say, Eddie’s mouth was on his, kissing him desperately. Richie had been kissed before plenty of times and by plenty of people, but he had never been kissed like this. He pressed down into it, hoping to comfort, to reassure, to solidify. Richie hadn’t realised that he himself was this afraid, that these kisses were a comfort he also sorely needed, until now.

“Richie…” Eddie moaned between kisses. “I want you, no I need you! Please.”

Richie paused between kisses as his brain registered what Eddie was saying.

“We should… ah… uh… do that… we should…” Eddie mumbled nervously, turning bright red in the cheeks and around the ears.

“What are you…”

“There is no word for it that I can bring myself to say!” Eddie nearly shrieked. “Please. You are clearly the expert, you know what I’m saying. You’ve done it before. I want it now.”

Richie found his jaw dropping at the idea of what Eddie was asking him to do, albeit apparently in riddle form. His heart was pounding in his chest like it might just burst. “You… want…?”

“Yes.” Eddie whispered.

“Now?” Richie asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you’re-“

“Please!” Eddie practically begged, wriggling under him.

Richie tugged off his own boxers, before removing Eddie’s briefs and flinging them both vaguely behind him.

“You should probably… umm… turn around if you want…” Richie said nervously.

Eddie nodded and turned himself around, so that he was laying on his stomach.

Richie put gentle hands on his hips and guided them up. He took a moment to appreciate the view, as well as to let settle the churning nervous excitement in his stomach, before he knelt forwards and swept his tongue across Eddie’s hole.

“Wait… stop.” Eddie gasped, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “Is that really?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Richie said.

“But it’s dirty!”

“You’re the cleanest person I know. And you’ve washed yourself quite thoroughly… I can tell.”

Eddie gulped. “But it’s an asshole.” He whispered.

“I mean… all sex is dirty. And it’s **_your_** asshole. Which makes it the most beautiful thing in the world.” Richie whispered.

“I can’t believe you just said that.” Eddie whispered back. “But whatever. You can keep going, weirdo.”

At this point neither of them knew why they were whispering, when they were alone and no one else could possibly hear them. But they couldn’t help but do it anyways.

Richie continued where he left off and Eddie kept letting out funny noises as he worked his tongue through the ring of tight muscle. Richie was already rock hard. But he reached a hand down to stroke Eddie’s dick instead, taking him from a partial to a full erection.

At this point Eddie was flushed and panting.

Richie pulled back to make room for his finger, sticking it in his mouth and coating it with drool before tracing Eddie’s quivering entrance with the tip of it. Slowly… he pushed it into him.

Eddie made a noise in his throat that sounded like a squeak.

“Are you ok?” Richie asked. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Eddie breathed. “I’m ok.”

Richie worked his finger gently around to find the right place. He knew for certain that he’d found it when Eddie let out a gasp.

He added another finger and spread them a little to stretch Eddie out. Eddie quickly became louder and far more wanton than Richie could ever have expected, as he moaned and thrust himself on Richie’s fingers.

Richie added a third finger. It was a little tight and he felt Eddie tense around him, so he slowed the pace down.

“When are you going to start… you know?” Eddie asked.

“Not yet.” Richie said. “You’ve got to get used to it. Or it’ll suck.”

Richie felt him slowly loosening, felt him relaxing around his fingers.

Eddie nodded. “You’re… good at this.” He observed, very quietly, his voice a little huskier than usual. His dick was drooling pre-cum over the sheets.

“Uh… thanks.” Richie said, suddenly feeling a little bit nervous. “Do you think you’re ready to-”

“Yes.” Eddie said immediately.

“Can you turn over?” Richie asked.

Eddie clumsily flopped himself over onto his back. He winced as his bare back made contact with the wetness on the sheets. “Did I just lie in…”

He trailed off as he stared up at the sight above him, Richie, flushed and ready for action, hair all askew. Wow… Eddie thought, stunned by the way Richie looked at that moment. He’d never really thought his friend could look that way before. But now… he couldn’t put a name to the feeling that inspired in him, but he wanted him. In a sort of nervously excitable way that turned his guts into a sea of snakes. Well there would be a snake in his guts soon enough, he thought. He chuckled to himself. “Hey Richie. I’ve thought of a jo-“

His voice stopped working as Richie pushed inside of him.

“Sorry… what were you… saying?” Richie asked him a little absentmindedly, focused on the task at hand.

Eddie’s mind went blank. Richie was… inside him. And it felt quite different then his fingers.

“Nothing.” He said breathlessly. “It was nothing.”

Richie began to move, and Eddie clutched his arms tightly around his shoulders. Richie’s shoulders. They were so… so… How had he never seen them this way before, he wondered? How had he never seen him this way before? He was simply so… handsome.

Handsome in the way he’d always suspected his mother found the young Dr Greene, handsome. Handsome in the way he’d once found Bill, handsome, just as they all used to find Bill, handsome. Richie had always been important to him… someone he’d secretly loved maybe even just a little more than he did the rest of them… but he’d never been so… handsome. Had he?

“Holy shit.” Eddie whispered.

Richie slowed his movements a little and glanced around. “Don’t tell me I redecorated the room again?” He mumbled awkwardly.

Eddie grabbed Richie’s face and turned it back towards his own. “No… Holy shit!” He said, and he pulled Richie into a deep kiss.

Richie had a look on his face of complete and utter surprise. “And you say I’m the cute one.” Eddie said to him, almost flirtily, and Richie was so stunned that he stopped moving.

“What’d you stop for?” Eddie asked, disappointedly.

“You might be out of my league…” Richie marvelled aloud.

Eddie smiled. “Just shut up and keep going.” He said playfully. “I already know I’m out of your league.”

Richie grinned and thrust forwards, eliciting a series of lustful moans from Eddie. Then as he continued to do so he took Eddie’s dick in his hand and stroked along its length.

It wasn’t long before Eddie’s breathing became ragged. “I think I’m… going to…”

Eddie came just a bit before Richie, and Richie was sure to run his hand up to Eddie’s tip to collect the mess before he could spray it all over himself. Then he pulled out and did the same for himself.

Then he looked down at his hands. He didn’t really think that through. All of his fingers were sticky and he was holding two cupped handfuls of- He grinned a little at how awkward he must look right now. Eddie took one look at Richie. “You head to the bathroom and I’ll turn on the tap.” He said kindly, before stepping one foot out of bed and promptly falling on his face, his knees immediately collapsing out from under him.

Richie promptly rushed to the bathroom, dumped the mess into the sink, turned the tap, soaped his hands, washed them, soaped the tap handle, washed it, washed his hands again and then turned off the tap, before rushing back to help Eddie up. And he knew that was absolutely the order in which Eddie would have wanted it.

As he helped Eddie back onto the bed he wondered if he could in some way work this situation into his next comedy set… except he didn’t think he could explain away why he had **_two_** handfuls of jizz. That and unless Derry was to become the next comedy capital of these United States… his comedy career was probably dead in the water. There would likely be no next set. And honestly… that was ok right now.

“You all right?” He asked Eddie, who honestly looked a little worried.

“I can’t stand up.” Eddie said softly, with his brow furrowed.

“That’s… actually fairly normal… the first time.” Richie comforted. “Did you get hurt at all when you fell?”

“Are you sure that’s normal?” Eddie asked, suspiciously.

“Of course I am.” Richie said. “It’s just using muscles that you haven’t used before. And I guess we didn’t exactly go easy on them.”

Eddie flushed lightly.

“I guess I probably should have warned you about that… but I didn’t really think about it until after I saw you fall. Since I’ve not exactly experienced that… myself.” Richie rambled.

Eddie raised an eyebrow and sighed. “Just… come on.” He gestured for Richie to sit on the bed, which he did.

“I’m still coming with you when you tell Mike.” Eddie said.

“I know.”

“Even if you have to freaking carry me there. And even though that’s embarrassing as shit. You’re not leaving me behind.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not a virgin… so don’t treat me like a virgin.” Eddie muttered.

This time it was Richie’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Eddie sort of was a virgin in this respect, that much was very clear. But he supposed that Eddie was embarrassed to be treated like a girl or something. Richie didn’t feel that he was treating Eddie very much like a girl at all, but he supposed he couldn’t help the way that Eddie would see it.

“Who said you were a virgin, Edster my man?” Richie asked, grinning. “Cuz you’re a total fox in the sack. Seriously dynamite.”

“Well, obviously.” Eddie said, before lowering his voice. “Uh, you… were pretty good too.” His cheeks were very pink at this point, as were his ears.

“Was I?” Richie asked, leaning sideways into Eddie’s lap. “Tell me more.”

“And risk bursting that already swollen head of yours?” Eddie asked.

“So simply too impeccable to put into words! I see!”

Eddie simply rolled his eyes, too tired to even try to make a comeback. Richie on the other hand… seemed to have simply boundless energy.

“That means you liked it.” Richie teased in a sing song voice. “I should get an award for my loverlicious skills! I should get a plaque engraved in my honour.”

“You should let me get some rest.” Eddie said with a yawn. “Before we go and see Mike.”

“Right.” Richie said. “Rest. Ok.”

Eddie actually ended up having to send Richie out of the room so he could have a chance to sleep off what was admittedly the most pleasurable sexual experience he’d ever had.


	8. Bill

**Part Two: We All Sink Down Here, And You'll Sink Too**

**Chapter 2 – Bill**

Richie practically whistled his way around town. Life was good. He had a plan to turn it all around, no more eating people. He could live a fairly normal life, even, he thought. He’d just had fantastic sex with the love of his life, who was surprisingly much freakier in the sheets than he could have ever expected (given he had expected a missionary man). But seriously, Eddie freakin’ Kaspbrack was actually into him! So maybe that’s not love but that’s something! He had all the energy in the world. He was full! Full with love, full with life…

Richie stopped in his tracks. Images flashed through his mind of what he’d done. Yes… he was full. It had only been a week since he’d eaten last, had that all satisfying drink. Food for the soul, as they say so rightly. Of course they wouldn’t really know. Mentally he kicked himself. Here he was happy and unrepentant. Here he was, having just killed and ate a man, having a gay old time fucking the love of his life, as if he was a normal man and not a murderer. Fucking murderer. How could he forget?

He looked up at the statue in the town square, at the big, ugly Paul Bunyan statue. “Fucking murderer.” He whispered aloud to it, but it didn’t seem to hear him.

He walked up to the statue and placed a hand gently on the right cuff of his jeans. He wasn’t scared of it anymore.

“I promise.” He said. “I promise that I’ll take the tranquilizers… that’s assuming that they work… and that these powers don’t just keep on doing what they want anyway. I’ll use them every full moon, like clockwork. I’ll do my best. I promise I’ll keep from my drink. I won’t kill a single other person for as long as I live. For myself… and for Eddie.”

He smiled up at the giant stupid statue, with his hand on the cuff of its jeans he felt like a toddler again, looking up towards his father. The world was a big, scary place then. And he guessed it was now too. Although Paul Bunyan didn’t look towards him as kindly as his father once had. If he had to place the particular expression Paul was giving him… it would be something along the lines of ‘get the hell off me you weird little shit, or I’ll strike you with my axe’.

“Awww, Paul. You’re breakin’ my heart.” He said.

“Richie?” He heard a voice exclaim, and he turned around, one hand still resting on Paul’s giant ankle.

Bill was giving him the exact same expression as the statue, like, the exact same. It made him want to laugh ( ** _laugh, laugh_** ).

“What the fuck are you doing man? Are you… talking… to that thing?”

“Is it illegal to tell Paul here how much I admire his… ugly, green complexion?” Richie asked facetiously.

“Illegal… no. But not healthy either. No, not healthy.” Bill said and shook his head. “Should I be concerned?”

“Concerned?” Richie asked. “About me? I thought you hated me now? Fucking monster and all that.” He shrugged. “Although you’re not totally wrong, I guess.”

“Concerned for you, Trashmouth?” Bill said with a grin. “Nah, never. I was worried for all the poor saps around here who aren’t spending their afternoons talking to statues. I mean look at them! Walking their dogs, playing with their kids, out and about and having fun!” He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Where is the neighbourhood going, man? They should all be out here talking to the statues.”

“Just like we used to.” He added, his face now grown solemn.

Richie quietly removed his hand from the statue, stepped towards Bill, and wrapped him up in a firm hug. “Bill.” was all he said. It was all he needed to say.

“Are you ok?” Bill asked.

“No.” Richie said truthfully. “Of course I’m not ok.”

“You know, Richie, you could always tell me what’s going on. You know, if you, Eddie and Mike ever got sick of your little secret keeping club. Maybe I could help make things better.”

For a moment, Richie wanted to tell Bill everything. Bill would make things better, Big Bill would always make things better. Suddenly Richie was like the toddler, the world was a big, scary place, and Bill was his loving father, who would always make things right.

 ** _Or_** Bill was the statue towering above him with the same unfriendly grimace, as Richie clung to his ankle like a spoiled and delusional child.

Richie blinked and bit his lip. As badly as he wanted to go crawling back to Big Bill on his hands and knees, begging for help, he had promised Eddie. He had promised Eddie that he would only tell Mike about his **_new_** set of problems. And his so called ‘secret keeping club’ were the only people in his life that hadn’t yet betrayed him. Sorry Bill, Richie thought, but you’re not on that list.

How had Bill, Ben and Bev betrayed him? That was simple. They just let Eddie die down there in the dark. They had left him alone. And he couldn’t forgive them for that. Not ever. If it was himself that they'd left to die he'd forgive them in a second, but it wasn't. It was Eddie. And a part of him hated them for that, would always hate them for that.

But he still wanted to tell Bill something… because he did still love Bill, just as they all did. Just as they all would always do for the rest of time.

So he told him. “The hardest part of being IT is staying sober, Bill. Drink… or no drink.”

“It must feel like you’re losing your mind.” Bill said.

Richie nodded. “Yeah.” He choked out. “It does.”

Bill brought him to a nearby café for a coffee and got them a booth. Richie thought about telling him that he actually didn’t need to eat… but kept quiet for fear that it could send their fragile but recovering friendship over the edge.

“Hey Richie.” Bill said. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure, Bill. Go ahead.”

“It’s just that… you’re not the only one who feels like they’re losing their mind.” Bill said.

“What’re ‘ya talking about, Bill?” Richie asked, concerned for him.

Bill took in a deep breath and let it out again. “I swear that every kid I see on the street these days is Georgie. Every single one of them, I just keep seeing him. And hiding around every dark corner and in every sewer grate is IT, just waiting with those glowing orange eyes and sharp fucking teeth. And even now that IT is dead there is absolutely no change in that. Everything still looks exactly the same to me as it did before. I think that’s why I freaked out like that when I found out about what happened to you.” Bill said. “Because for a moment I thought that it wasn’t just me… you know? I wanted it to not just be me. I guess I tried to blame you so I wouldn’t feel so…”

“Nuts?” Richie offered helpfully.

“Alone.” Bill said, then he smiled a tired, grown-up smile. “But I guess I’m not alone, am I?”

“Of course you’re not alone.” Richie said. “I mean you’ve got Audra. And she’s really hot, too, which totally helps with-”

“I’ve got you.” Bill said into his coffee.

Richie laughed. “Me? Look buddy, I’m flattered but I’m totally taken-”

Bill then spluttered into his coffee. “I don’t mean like that!” He said frantically. “Jesus, Richie! I just meant that we’re both totally nuts. We both understand that about each other, is all. Because whenever I speak about anything Derry, or even **_Georgie_** related to Audra she just gives me this look like…”

“She wasn’t there.” Richie said.

“Exactly.” Bill said, gesturing with his coffee. “She wasn’t there.”


	9. Hope

**Part Two: We All Sink Down Here, And You'll Sink Too**

**Chapter 3 – Hope**

Richie dropped back by… (his place?)… to pick up and check on Eddie before they went to Mike’s. It was bordering on evening and Eddie was dressed and hobbling around the apartment when Richie walked through the door.

“You fucker!” Eddie yelled out when he heard the door open and close, but without looking over his shoulder to do so. “It fucking hurts!”

Richie raised his eyebrows. “And you want the whole hotel to know?”

His adorable little man hobbled over to him and fixed him with a fierce glare. “I was tired afterwards so I took a nap… just for like an hour or so… but when I woke up suddenly everything was stiff and sore and… and…” Eddie flushed bright red.

“It was like there was something big and annoying lodged right up in my ass.” Eddie hissed. “I can still freaking feel it, are you sure you didn’t leave anything stuck up there?”

“Well **_big_** and annoying is my signature flavour.” Richie said. “Though I am sorry about the aftertaste.”

Eddie’s shoulders started shaking. He was… laughing, and Richie turned to him in some alarm. “You’re not that **_big_** , asshole!” Eddie said through a stream of choking laughter. “I can say that now. Cause I **_know_**!”

“Oh shit! I’ve made a huge mistake!” Richie crowed with delight.

“Not that huge.” Eddie teased.

“An error of massive proportions!” Richie continued.

“On the better side of moderate, perhaps.” Eddie said, stepping into Richie’s open arms.

“How many dicks have you seen, then?” Richie asked, as if asking Eddie to prove it.

“Ever been to a urinal?” Eddie asked.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Yeah, that excuse won’t work on me like it did on Jessica Turner.”

“It didn’t really work on Jessica Turner, either.” Richie admitted, with his arms around Eddie.

Eddie bit his lip.

“What’s wrong?” Richie asked.

“I’m just trying to decide on whether to tell people you really are huge or to say that you’re really tiny.” Eddie said.

“I’m surprised you’re not just planning on saying it as is.”

“Come on, Tozier. Where’s the fun in that?” Eddie asked playfully, leaning up and giving Richie a kiss. To reach, he actually had to stand on his toes. It was freaking cute.

Richie stared at Eddie as he pulled away. “I could not love you any more than I do at this moment.” He said, honestly.

Eddie’s expression melted into something that warmed Richie’s heart. It was super soppy. Had he shown it to anyone but Richie, then Richie would have made super fun of him for it. As it was, however… well… he was sure that the sight of his own ugly mug would make himself gag with soppiness.

“Dumbass.” Eddie said softly, before kissing Richie again.

Richie slid his hands around Eddie’s hips, just to hold onto them.

“Are we going to go see Mike tonight, or what?” Richie asked Eddie, while pressing a few gentle kisses down his neck.

Eddie was strangely silent.

“Eds?” Richie asked.

“If I said that I was too sore to go there tonight, would you go without me?”

“Well according to article 47, clause 18 of our agreement, I’d have to physically carry you there with me. And I think I have to be really embarrassing about it too.” Richie said.

“Yeah… right.” Eddie said, with a far off look in his eyes. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“I thought you were the one who wanted to go with me.” Richie said.

“Let’s just go!” Eddie said frustratedly, quickly hobbling out the door.

Richie cocked his head before following Eddie outside.

The walk to Mike’s was the slowest Richie thought he’d ever moved. He briefly found himself suspecting that Eddie could be faking the extent of how badly he was affected, but felt awful for even thinking that. After all, it was mostly his fault. He sort of wanted to pick Eddie up, just as they’d originally joked about doing, but something in Eddie’s expression stopped him. Because Eddie kind of looked like he wanted to punch someone, which was honestly quite scary.

But by the time they got to Mike’s door, Richie was surprised when he suddenly felt Eddie’s arms around him, as he was readying himself to press the doorbell.

“Can we just stay here… like this, for a moment?” Eddie asked. “Please?”

Richie hugged Eddie back. “Ok.” He said. He wasn’t sure why Eddie was acting this way at the moment, things had been weird since they had left to go to Mike’s, but he didn’t mind the chance to feel Eddie’s warmth against him either. Moments like these, of Eddie wanting hold him in his arms, were precious.

Eventually Eddie pulled away from him and nodded slowly. Richie rang the doorbell.

Mike answered quickly and let them immediately into his home.

“Jesus, Eddie. You’re walking a bit funny, what happened to you?” Mike said as he noticed the awkward way into which Eddie moved as he walked through the house.

“Put my back out. I’m almost forty, these things happen!” Eddie said, his voice rather terse.

“O-ok there, Eddie.” Mike said, clearly not expecting Eddie to snap at him like that.

“Hey, Mike.” Richie said. “I’ve got something I need to tell you.”

Something stirred in Mike’s features, almost like Mike had expected this visit.

Richie swallowed. “About a week ago, at the last full moon, I killed a man in my sleep.” He admitted. “And I was holed up in my hotel room all this time… I just couldn’t face myself, you know? And I certainly couldn’t face any of you.”

Mike just nodded. “Tell me all you can.”

So Richie took in a trembling breath. “I swear I thought I was just dreaming, having some sort of freaky nightmare. But God, Mike. I really killed him.”

Again, at this moment, he wanted a drink. But the urge didn’t linger. Richie was grateful for that.

“I fucking ate him.” Richie said, feeling sweat start to form at his brow. “I didn’t mean to. I had no real control… but… I still did it. All week I’ve been… just fucking terrified. Of myself, of everyone else.”

His eyes flickered over towards Eddie, whose face was grave and whose forehead was crinkled. His mouth was pursed tightly into a little line.

“But then Eddie pointed out to me that it was a full moon that night, and if the werewolf stuff holds up, then it kinda makes sense that I would lose control… lose all control. Maybe, right?”

He turned back towards Mike. “Tranquilizers. I think I need tranquilizers. Maybe if I take those during the full moon I can just shut myself down on the nights I lose control. And Voila!”

Mike flicked his pen back and forth between his fingers. “Can you get those yourself?”

“I could if I wasn’t stuck in Derry, but as it is…”

Mike frowned. “I went on a few dates with a nurse. Maybe I could convince her to help. I mean, no guarantees or anything, but I could try.”

Richie grinned. “Get me the strongest they got, Mike. Get the fucking elephant tranquilizers!”

“Don’t listen to the fucking idiot.” Eddie said. “He’s gonna end up killing himself with an overdose. Just get something normal.”

“I’m gonna be completely honest. I think both of you know far more about this stuff than I do, first of all. And second of all, I think I’m gonna get Linda to figure out the dosage, or strength, or whatever. I’m not sure that I’d trust any of us losers with that.”

“Thanks, Mike.” Richie said.

“Don’t thank me yet.” Mike said. “Thank me when we’ve figured things out, alright?”

“Sure thing, Mike.” Richie said.

As soon as they were out of Mike’s house and the door was shut Eddie turned to Richie and yanked him down by the collar into a kiss.

After he let go, Richie looked around nervously to make sure no one had been watching, but he also couldn’t help himself from breaking into a smile.

“What was that for?” He asked, curiously. He would have expected Eddie to be far more concerned about being seen than he.

“You’re way too reckless.” Eddie said.

“Me?” Richie asked. “You’re the one kissing me in public.”

Eddie smirked. “Yeah… I guess I am.”

And all around them flowers began to bloom from all the nearby plants, though many were out of season.

Eddie glanced at Richie’s handiwork. “You sap.” He said fondly, leaning on Richie’s arm as they walked.

“Just for you, baby.” Richie said, wriggling his eyebrows comically, even though Eddie couldn’t see that.

“Do you really… like me that much?” Eddie asked honestly. He sounded confused.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Eddie asked. “Why would you like me? What is there to really like about me? I don’t really think I’m that attractive… and I’m not fun to be around.”

“Not fun?” Richie exclaimed. “First of all I’ve always found you attractive, you are the cutest person I’ve ever met. But why would you ever think you weren’t fun? I’ve always had fun being with you, Spaghetti Head. Always.”

“Plus you’re amazing in bed. Just… wow.” Richie added.

“It’s not going to hurt like this after… every time, is it?” Eddie asked awkwardly, he was still walking a little funny, although he was starting to look much better.

“I think it’s just… you know… not being used to it. I think it’s supposed to stop… if you do it often.” Richie said.

Eddie turned pink at the cheeks. “Often…” He repeated.

“You’re so cute, Eds.” Richie said, with a soft grin.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like what I do here you can follow me on twitter @Writer_Monster or on my tumblr where I’m writer-monster


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